Skip to main content

Full text of "Brief history of Gilead, and prose and poetic writings"

See other formats


t/l  0 


Glass  J^JsL 
Rnnk-   C^^r 


&  R  I  K  IP 


HISTORY    OF    GILEAD, 


PEOSE  AND  POETIC  WETTINGS. 


BY  GEORGE  "VV.  CHAPMAN. 


PORTLAND: 
PUBLISHED  BY  THE  AUTHOR 

B.   THURSTON  AND  CO.,   PRINTERS. 

1867. 


-PS.)*?* 


CONTENTS 


Names  of  persons  in  the  Contents,  signify  an  acrostic  upon  them. 


Announcement,   .... 
Autobiography  of  G-.  W.  Chapman, 
A  True  Bear  Story,     . 
Adams,  Israel  and  Betse}r, 
Adams,  Charlie,  .    '    . 
Adams,  Ella  Cornelia,     . 
A  Melancholy  Event, 


Barker,  Kate  Ingalls, 

Baker,  Emma,     .... 

Birth  Day,  On  My  75th, . 

Buck,  Bev.  Edwin  A.  and  Elmira. 

Bear  Story,       .... 

Barker,  Dr.  John,  Bethel,  . 

Bradbury,  Mrs.  Mary,     . 

Barstow,  Emma, 

Bradbury,  Miss  Mary  Caroline, 

Barker,  Charles, 

Buxton,  Phebe  M.,  . 

Baker,  Eddie,       .... 

Baker,  Mar}r,    .... 


9 

15 
41 
65 

78 
84 
71 

86 
79 
27 
34 
41 
48 
88 
66 
57 
60 
54 
89 
89 


6  WRITINGS    OF 

Celebration  of  July  4, 1859,  at  Mineral  Spring,  Bethel,  39 

Chapman,  Rev.  William  R., 43 

Chapman,  Hannah  P.  B.  and  George  W.,  Bethel,   .  50 

Chapman,  Mrs.  Delinda, 69 

Chapman,  Emily  B., ,        .72 

Chapman,  Abby  L., 61 

Chapman,  Timothy  A.  and  Laura  B.,  59 

Chapman,  Luther, 87 

Chapman,  Alice  G., 86' 

Chapman,  Eliza, 82 

Chapman,  Laura  A., 82 

Chapman,  Hannah  P.  B.,  Death  of,               .        .  80 

Chapman,  Frederic, 73 

Chapman,  Gilman  and  Maryann  B.,              .        .  97 

Clough,  Ella, 102 

Clough,  Emma, 101 

Depravity  of  Man, 62 

Early  Love  Never  Forgets,    ......  88 

Earth  and  Heaven, 51 

Epitaph  for  the  Tomb  of  Mrs.  Clara  R.  Smith,    .  90 

Frost,  Rev.  Charles, 33 

Frisbie,  Austin, 40 

Fanning,  Gloriann, 60 

For  the  "Journal,"  a  boy's  paper,          ...  64 

Frisbie,  Fanny, 100 

Gilead,  Brief  History  of, 11 

Garland,  Rev.  David, 36 

Garland,  Mary  Elizabeth, 36 

Greenwood,  Cyprian  S.  and  Esther  E.,          .        .  63 

Great  Eastern, 74 


G.    W.    CHAPM  AN.  7 

Hall,  Laura  C,         .......  53 

Hodsdon,  Hannah  C, 54 

Hasty,  Elmira, 52 

Huntington,  Mary  Ann  M., 95 

Inquiry  into  the  Evidences  of  My  Hope  in  Christ,  92 

Irish,  Ida  Anna, 76 

Jordan,  Type  of  Christ, 31 

Johnson,  Elizabeth  C,  Portland,       ....  67 

Kerosene  Oil, 30 

Kimball,  John  and  Lucia  T., 64 

King  Alcohol, 98 

Luther  at  the  Diet  of  Worms, 28 

Langworthy,  Sarah,  Belfast, 58 

Lincoln,  Abraham,  Assassination  of,         ...  84 

Love  to  Christians,          ......  91 

Lines  on  the  Death  of  Hannah  P.  B.  Chapman,     .  80 

Merrill,  Rev.  John  H., 37 

On  My  Seventy-fifth  Birth  Day,        ....  27 

On  Reception  of  Bell  for  Church  at  Gorham,  N".  H.,  46 

On  the  Paraffine  Candle, 38 

Old  Times,  by  Whittier, 85 

Pomroy,  Rev.  Swan  Lyman, 43 

Pomroy,  Mrs.  Ann  Q., 45 

Philbrook,  Paulina  E., 96 

Putnam,  Margaret, 77 

Peabody,  Mary  Elizabeth  R., 75 

Poetry,  written  for  the  Journal,     ....  64 

Paraffine  Candle,         ...."..  3S 

Poem,  recited  by  President  Lincoln,         .        .        .  106 


8  G.    W.    CHAPMAN. 

Reception  of  Church  Bell  at  Gorham,  N.  H.,        .  46 

Robertson,  Mary  B., 55 

Robertson,  Aurelius  Asbury, 104 

Shurtleff,  Giles, 47 

Sanb'ourn,  George  W.  and  Mary  A.,              .        .  49 

Shed,  Charlie,      . 99 

Shed,  Olive  Dinsdale, 102 

Thatcher,  Miss  Abby,         ......  98 

True,  Ellen  Frances, 76 

To  My  Departed  Wife, 25 

Torrey,  Helen  Adelaide, 103 

Thurston,  Brown, 78 

Thurston,  Amanda  Chapman,        ....  94 

Tinkham,  Louisa  Davenport, 56 

Twitchell,  Lawson  and  Lucy,         ....  68 

Twitchell,  Alice  G., 72 

Twitchell,  Frances, 105 

True,  Brackett  Winslow,  on  the  Death  of,    .        .  52 

Thoughts  on  Man's  Depravity,           ....  62 

Tilden,  Maria  D., 83 

The  Great  Eastern, 74 

Upton,  Tilden, 35 

Wife,  To  My  Departed, 25 

Walker,  Thomas  Spencer, 70 

Walker,  Milton  Chapman, 90 

Whitman,  Elizabeth, 100 

Winslow,  Lucy, 93 


THIRD    EDITION 


WITH    ADDITIONS 


CONTENTS  OF  ADDITION. 


PAGE 

Adams,  Martha  Beach, 128 

Bowkcr,  Helen  A., 127 

Burt,  Kev.  Edmund, 117 

Burt,  Lydia  W., 117 

Chapman,  Albion  P., 110 

Chapman,  Sophronia  II., 110 

Chapman,  Mary  O., 129 

Chapman,  George  Granville, 109 

Chapman,  Augustus, 112 

Chapman,  Edmund  and  Hittie, 118 

Chapman,  Timothy  and  Sarah  J., 120 

Chapman,  Sarah  Adeline,             124 

Chapman,  Mary, 129 

Chapman,  Captain  John  S.,  and  Arabella,           .        .        .  130 

Chapman,  Georgian, 131 

Eames,  Ebenczer  and  Hephzibah 110 

Garland,  Mary  Jane, 115 

Golden  Wedding,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Amos  Johnson,    .        .  121 

Hastings,  Abbie  Frances, 125 

Kendall,  Ella  A., 127 

Morse,  Miranda  K, 114 

Morse,  George, 114 

Morse,  Augustus, 112 


CONTENTS    OF    ADDITION. 

Newton,  Millisent, Ill 

Pkilbrook,  Harvey  and  Susan, 126 

Pratt,  Lucy  Ellen, 132 

Eowe,  Abbie, 123 

Stiles,  Zilpah, 123 

Thurston,  Jessie  L., 122 

Valentine,  William  J., 113 

Valentine,  Susan  Isabelle, 119 


ANNOUNCEMENT 


After  becoming  blind,  I  occupied  much  of  my  time  and 
thoughts  in  forming  the  various  suggestions  of  my  mind 
into  verse. 

My  friends  hearing  me  repeat  some  of  these,  would 
request  me  to  write  an  acrostic  upon  their  names.  To 
these  I  have  generally  complied,  until  the  number  is 
quite  large.  In  all  of  these  productions,  I  have  endeav- 
ored to  express  the  character  of  the  persons,  or  some 
desire  concerning  them,  upon  whose  names  I  have 
written. 

A  wish  having  been  expressed  by  many  to  see  these 
all  together  in  print,  I  have  put  them  into  the  form  of 
a  book. 

Hoping  the  sentiments  expressed  in  these  various 
compositions  will  be  the  means  of  good  to  those  who 
read,  I  subscribe  myself, 

Your  faithful  friend, 

GEO.  W.  CHAPMAN. 

Portland,  Jan.  31,  18G7. 


A    BRIEF 


HISTORY  OF  GILEAD. 


The  town  of  Gilead  is  situated  on  both  sides  of  the 
Androscoggin  river,  about  as  much  of  the  territory 
upon  one  side  as  the  other,  and  is  bounded  on  the 
east  by  Bethel,  on  the  west  by  Shelburne,  N.  H.,  on 
the  north  by  Riley,  and  on  the  south  by  Mason 
and  Batcheldor.  It  is  six  miles  long  by  three  wide. 
The  land  is  divided  into  rich  and  fertile  intervales, 
uplands,  excellent  for  tillage,  and  high,  even  moun- 
tainous ranges,  which  are  first  rate  for  grazing.  Prop- 
er dressing,  good  cultivation,  and  the  smiles  *of  Prov- 


12  WRITINGS    OF 

idence,  insure  bountiful  crops.  I  have  raised  on  the 
same  spot,  corn,  rye,  wheat,  oats,  and  potatoes  with 
equal  success.  Fruit  trees  grow  remarkably  well, 
with  proper  attention.  In  fine,  all  kinds  of  fruits, 
grains,  and  plants  may  be  grown  in  Gilead  that  can 
be  grown  in  Oxford  county,  for  there  is  a  variety  of 
soil  between  the  river  and  the  mountains  admirably 
adapted  to  the  growth  of  each. 

Gilead  has  some  very  prominent  features.  Its 
landscape  is  beautifully  diversified  by  mountains. 
valleys,  and  rivers.  Tumbledown  Dick  is  a  grand 
rocky  mountain,  whose  top  claims  affinity  with  the 
clouds.  Its  base  skirts  the  river  brink,  while  its 
rear  is  firmly  connected  with  the  grand  chain  of 
mountains  which  border  our  northern  line  from  east 
to  west.  The  silvery  waters  of  the  Androscoggin 
flow  with  resistless  force  through  the  entire  town, 
from  west  to  east.  But  I  leave  it  to  the  artist  to 
portray  its  beauties  and  deliver  it  to  the  world. 

Gilead  is  beautifully  described  in  scriptural  lan- 
guage as  "a  land  of  hills  and  valleys,  of  brooks  and 
fountains  of  waters,"  even  "the  upper  and  nether 
springs."  The  mountains  of  ancient  Gilead  were 
noted  for  their  spices,  balm,  and  myrrh  ;  this  is  more 
than  we  can  claim  for  our  Gilead,  vet  we  have  excel- 


G.    W.    C  II  A  I'MAN.  13 

lent  substitutes  in  our  sugar-maples,  mountain-cran- 
berries, and  large  blueberries. 

Our  blueberry  sauce,  and  cranberry  tart, 

And  blessed  maple  honey,  too, 
lie  fresh  the  taste,  rejoice  the  heart, 

And  loss  of  appetite  renew. 

Our  higb  cranberry  jelly  and  maple  honey,  we 
have  found  by  experience,  were  very  refreshing  in 
sickness. 

The  south  side  of  the  river  has  always  had  more 
privileges,  from  the  fact  that  the  main  business  is 
transacted  there,  especially  since  the  Grand  Trunk 
Railway  has  stretched  its  line  through  the  town  on 
that  side. 

Hark!  hark!  the  iron-horse  with  power  and  speed 
Comes  neighing  o'er  this  spacious  line; 

Freighted  with  articles  we  need, 
To  leave,  by  way,  exact  on  time. 

This  mighty  steed,  with  naming  breath, 

Employed  to  force  the  cars  along; 
A  great  variety  it  hath  — 

To  leave  by  way,  when  passing  on. 

So  we  have  our  market  brought  to  us,  instead  of 
being  obliged  to  go  after  it.  A  mighty  contrast 
between  the  present  and  the  past,  when  we  had  to 
wallow  through  the  snow  banks,  and  ascend  those 
massy  hills  which  lay  between  our  homes  and  dis- 


14  G.    W.    CHAPMAN. 

tant  markets.  Then  our  products,  such  as  apples, 
potatoes,  wood,  &c,  were  of  but  little  value,  except 
for  domestic  use ;  now  they  are  staple  articles,  ready 
cash  on  delivery  at  our  railway  stations,  at  a  great 
advance  above  former  prices.  I  will  close  with  a 
dash  of  the  muse. 

Hold  on,  dear  reader,  hear  me  through, 
I'll  soon  relieve  you  of  your  pain, 

The  sugar-maple  first  well  view, 
Surpassing  China's  sugar-cane. 

Great  Androscoggin  flowing  down 

With  liquid  silver  at  our  feet, 
Its  banks  with  choicest  fruits  abound, 

In  great  abundance  all  complete. 

The  cranberry  meadow  too,  wre  claim, 
Also  the  beauteous  cranberry  tree, 

The  mountain  cranberry,  not  the  same, 
A  rarer  specimen,  you  see. 

Our  massy  hills  and  mountain  rocks, 

And  waving  forests,  ever  green, 
On  the  heights  of  which  are  bluebenw  spots, 

Surpassing  any  e'er  I've  seen. 

Our  cattle  to  the  mountain  base, 
We  drive  to  take  their  summer  fare ; 

The  prancing  colt,  for  work  or  race, 
Is  trotted  off  to  pasture  there. 

And  when  to  mountain  "Dick"  we  steer, 
To  gather  blueberries,  as  you  know, 

We  look  on  Bethel  village  near. 
With  all  its  beauty  just  below. 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 


GEORGE  WHITEFIELD  CHAPMAN 


I  was  born  in  Methuen,  Massachusetts,  December 
25,  1780.  My  father,  Rev.  Eliphaz  Chapman,  was 
born  in  Newmarket,  N.  H.  My  mother,  Hannah 
Jackman,  was  born  in  Newburyport,  Massachusetts. 
They  removed  from  Methuen  to  Sudburycanada,  the 
Indian  name  of  the  territory  now  known  as  Bethel, 
Maine,  when  I  was  ten  years  of  age. 

In  February,  1791,  my  father  journeyed  to  Bethel, 
with  two  two-horse  teams,  with  all  his  family  and 
effects,  passing  through  the  towns  of  York,  Gorham, 
Bridgton,  Waterford,  and  Albany.  From  the  latter 
place  there  was  no  traveled  road,  and  but  one  horse- 
team  had  ever  passed  over  the  ground  before  ;  and 


16  WRITINGS    OF 

that  one,  the  same  winter,  but  a  short  time  previous. 
This  route  could  not  have  been  traversed  in  the 
summer,  as  we  followed  the  low  lands,  ponds,  and 
streams,  they  being  frozen  and  covered  with  snow. 

We  found  a  few  families  settled  along  the  south 
banks  of  the  Androscoggin  river,  in  Bethel,  all  of 
whom  came  here  on  foot,  and  brought  their  effects 
on  horseback,  on  handsleds,  or  on  their  own  backs. 
There  were  three  families  only  on  the  north  side  of 
the  river,  at  this  time,  from  Bethel  to  the  New  Hamp- 
shire line.  My  father  settled  on  the  farm  now  owned 
and  occupied  by  Timothy  Chapman.  His  family 
consisted  of  himself,  wife,  and  nine  children,  viz : 
Hannah,  Eliphaz,  Elizabeth,  Abigail,  George  White- 
field,  (the  subject  of  this  sketch),  Timothy,  Samuel, 
Edmund,  and  Jonathan  Clark. 

My  father  went  to  Bethel  the  year  before,  and 
cleared  up  a  fewT  acres  of  land,  put  in  some  crops, 
and  built  a  log  house  twenty  feet  square,  all  in  one 
room,  which  constituted  the  domicil  for  his  whole 
family  for  some  time,  when  a  partition  was  put  up  to 
make  a  sleeping  room.  This  building  we  occupied 
for  four  or  five  years,  when  he  built  a  small  frame 


G.    W.    CHAPMAN.  17 

house,  with  two  rooms.  This  house  served  us  for 
some  eight  years  more,  when  he  built  the  large, 
square,  two  story  house,  now  occupied  by  Timothy 
Chapman. 

When  I  was  twenty-one  years  of  age,  I  purchased 
a  farm  about  four  miles  further  up  the  river,  in  the 
town  of  Gilead,  which  I  cleared  and  cultivated  for 
three  years,  making  my  home  at  father's. 

My  brother   Eliphaz,  had   built   a   house    where 
Jackman  Chapman  now  lives,  just  above  my  place. 
He  married  in  July,  1804,  and  in  September  of  the 
same   year  I  was  married  to   Polly  Greenwood,  of 
Bethel.     We  lived  with  them  that  winter,  making 
one  family.     I  built  a  temporary  house  on  my  land, 
and  moved  into  it  in  May,  1805.     We  lived  in  this 
house,  which  was  not  intended  for  a  permanent  resi- 
dence, eleven  years ;  when  the  County  road  having 
been  located,  I  built  the  house  now  occupied  by  my 
eldest  son,  George  Granville  Chapman,  and  moved 
into  it  in  1816. 

We  had  a  family  of  twelve  children,  viz:  Abigail, 
George  Granville,  Mary,  Harriet,  Joseph  Greenwood, 
Albion  Perry,  Leander  Thurston,  Jarvis,  Timothy 


18  WRITINGS    OF 

Appleton,  Hannibal  Greenwood,  Amanda,  and  For- 
dice ;  four  of  whom  are  now  living ;  George  Gran- 
ville, who  married  Eliza  Chapman,  of  Bethel,  lives 
on  the  homestead ;  Albion  P.,  who  married  Sophronia 
Eames,  of  Bethel,  lives  in  Bethel;  Timothy  A., 
who  married  Laura  Bowker,  of  Boston,  Mass.,  lives 
in  Milwaukee,  Wis.,  and  Amanda,  who  married  B. 
Thurston,  of  Portland,  lives  in  Portland.  My  wife 
died  March  17,  1849,*  after  our  living  together  for 

*The  following  brief  notice  was  written  by  Rev.  Wm. 
R.  Chapman. 

Mrs.  Polly  Greenwood  Chapman,  wife  of  Dea.  George 
W.  Chapman,  died  after  an  illness  of  two  weeks,  in  her  sixty- 
second  year.  She  was  the  center  of  a  large  family  of  children, 
who  were  all  present  to  witness  her  last  moments,  and  are  left 
to  monrn  their  loss  ;  but  they  do  not  mourn  as  those  that  have 
no  hope.  For  more  than  forty  years  Mrs.  C.  had  adorned  her 
life  with  a  consistent  Christian  piety,  and  was  prepared  to  meet 
death  with  composure.  She  could  say  with  holy  confidence,  "  I 
know  that  my  Redeemer  liveth —  I  know  in  whom  I  have  be- 
lieved." Her  work  was  done  ;  her  end  was  peace.  Death  has  set 
a  seal  upon  her  go'odness,  and  enshrined  it  for  the  benefit  of  the 
living.  It  is  a  precious  legacy  for  her  smitten  companion  and 
bereaved  children.  It  is  all  that  is  left  them.  May  they  be  pre- 
pared to  follow  her  ;  "  for  she  shall  not  return  to  them,  but 
blessed  be  God,  they  may  go  to  her" — go  to  form  an  unbroken 
family  circle  in  heaven. 

"Bury  the  dead  —  and  weep 
In  stillness  o'er  the  loss  ; 
Bury  the  dead  —  in  Christ  they  sleep 
Who  bore  on  earth  his  cross, 
And  from  the  grave  this  dust  shall  rise, 
In  his  own  image  to  the  skies." 


G.    W.   CHAPMAN.  19 

forty-five  years,  upon  this  place,  with  the  exception 
of  one  year  (1837),  which  was  spent  in  Farmington, 
Maine. 

In  August,  1851,  I  married  Mrs.  Hannah  Prince 
Buxton,  of  Bridgton.  We  purchased  the  Frost  place 
in  Bethel,  where  we  lived  four  years,  when  I  became 
blind,  and  unable  from  this  cause,  to  carry  on  the 
farm.  We,  therefore,  sold  this  place,  and  bought  a 
house  in  the  village,  near  the  Congregational  Meet- 
ing-house.  Here  we  lived  till  my  wife  died,  April 
18,  1862.  Since  that  time  I  have  made  my  home 
with  my  son  George  Granville,  on  the  old  homestead, 
with  the  exception  of  several  winters,  which  I  have 
spent  with  my  daughter,  Mrs.  Brown  Thurston,  in 
Portland. 

I  united  with  the  first  Congregational  church  in 
Bethel,  by  profession,  in  1810,  and  removed  my  rela- 
tion to  the  church  in  Gileacl,  when  that  was  formed 
in  1818,  just  after  the  great  revival,  in  which  one  or 
both  the  heads  of  almost  every  family  in  town  were 
hopefully  converted,  and  was  chosen  Deacon  at  the 
same  time,  which  office  I  held  till  1852,  when  I  re- 
moved to  the  church  where  I  made  my  first  profes- 


20  WRITINGS    OF 

sion.  In  1866,  I  took  a  letter  to  the  second  church 
in  Bethel.  For  ten  years  after  the  church  was  formed 
in  Gilead,  we  were  without  a  pastor.  The  church 
unanimously  voted  that  regular  Sabbath  services 
should  be  held,  and  that  Dea.  Burbank  and  myself 
should  sustain  the  exercises  in  the  usual  Congrega- 
tional manner  by  reading  sermons,  and  so  forth,  which 
we  did  through  all  that  time. 

I  served  as  Selectman  in  Gilead  fifteen  years,  and 
was  Representative  in  the  Legislature  of  1827,  held 
in  Portland. 

We  were  pioneers  in  that  country,  and  suffered 
many  hardships,  which  the  people  of  to-day,  in  any 
part  of  the  State  of  Maine,  know  nothing  about  by 
experience.  There  were  no  roads,  making  travelling 
very  tedious  and  often  dangerous,  in  crossing  streams 
and  rivers.  We  often  had  to  go  fifteen  and  twenty 
miles  to  mill,  with  ox  teams.  Portland,  seventy 
miles  distant,  was  the  nearest  market,  to  sell  our 
produce,  and  buy  our  supplies,  such  as  salt,  tea, 
molasses,  cotton  goods,  furniture,  lime,  &c,  requiring 
four  days  travel,  and  expenses  on  the  road,  which 
made  the  avails  of  a  loaded  team,  very  small,  before 
we  arrived  home. 


G.    W.    CHAP  MAX.  21 

The  country  was  infested  with  bears,  and  many 
an  exciting  story  might  be  told  concerning  them.* 
Previous  to  our  going  there,  serious  conflicts  had 
taken  place  with  the  Indians,  and  some  were  strag- 
gling about  the  region  for  many  years.  Sometimes 
the  people  were  greatly  alarmed  by  the  report  of  a 
gun,  or  other  cause,  but  no  injury  was  actually  done 
by  them  after  we  went  there. 

I  add  to  this  sketch  of  my  life,  the  beautiful  lines 
composed  by  Milton,  after  his  blindness,  as  expressing 
my  own  feelings  better  than  anything  I  could  write 
myself. 

"  I  am  old  and  blind  ! 

Men  point  at  me  as  smitten  by  God's  frown; 
Afflicted  and  deserted  of  my  kind; 

Yet  1  am  not  cast  down. 

I  am  weak,  yet  strong; 

I  murmur  not  that  I  no  longer  see; 
Poor,  old.  and  helpless,  I  the  more  belong. 

rather,  supreme  !  to  thee. 

*  P"or  one  incident  of  this  kind,  see  page  41. 


22  WRITINGS    OF 

0  merciful  one ! 

When  men  are  farthest,  then  Thou  art  most  near; 
When  friends  pass  by  me,  and  my  weakness  shun, 
Thy  chariot  I  hear. 

Thy  glorious  face 

Is  leaning  toward  me,  and  its  holy  light 
Shines  in  upon  my  lonely  dwelling-place, 

And  there  is  no  more  night. 

On  my  bended  knee 

I  recognize  thy  purpose  clearly  shown; 
My  vision  thou  has  dimmed,  that  I  may  see 

Thyself — thyself  alone. 

1  have  naught  to  fear; 

This  darkness  is  the  shadow  of  thy  wing ; 
Beneath  it  I  am  almost  sacred;  here 
Can  come  no  evij  thing. 

O,  I  seem  to  stand 

Trembling,  where  foot  of  mortal  ne'er  hath  been. 
Wrapped  in  the  radiance  of  thy  sinless  land, 

Which  eye  hath  never  seen. 

Visions  come  and  go ; 

Shapes  of  resplendent  beauty  round  me  throng ; 
From  angel  lips  I  seem  to  hear  the  flow 

Of  soft  and  holy  song. 


G.   W.   CHAPMAN.  23 

It  is  nothing  now, 

When  heaven  is  opening  on  my  sightless  eyes; 
When  airs  from  paradise  refresh  my  brow, 

The  earth  in  darkness  lies. 

In  a  purer  clime 

My  being  fills  with  rapture, — waves  of  thought 
Roll  in  upon  my  spirit, — strains  sublime 

Break  over  me  unsought. 

Give  me  now  my  lyre  ! 

I  feel  the  stirrings  of  a  gift  divine ; 
Within  my  bosom  glows  unearthly  fire, 

Lit  by  no  skill  of  mine." 

Milton,  1608-1674. 


POEMS. 


TO  MY  DEPARTED  WIFE.* 


0  !  where  is  now  my  loved  one  gone  ? 
I  miss  her  every  where  ; 

1  seek  her  in  the  walks  of  life, 

But  no,  she  is  not  there. 
I  seek  her  in  the  grove  that  's  near, 

Where  we  were  wont  to  roam ; 
And  then  I  wipe  the  flowing  tear, 

And  sit  and  grieve  alone. 

My  home  to  me  is  lone  and  drear, 

A  place  of  mournful  gloom  ; 
A  whisper  strikes  my  anxious  ear, 

"  She  's  yonder  in  the  tomb  ;" 
But  where's  her  soul,  her  better  part  ? 

What  answer  can  be  given  ? 
A  more  than  whisper  tells  my  heart, 

"  She  's  safe  above  in  heaven." 

*  Pokly  Greenwood   Chapman   died  in  Gilead,  Maine, 
March  17, 1849,  aged  01  years,  11  months,  and  13  days. 

2 


26  WRITINGS    OF 

Clad  in  a  robe  of  spotless  white, 

Forever  there  to  shine  ; 
Crowned  with  a  wreath  of  life  and  light, 

And  happiness  divine. 
A  golden  vial  now  is  hers, 

All  full  of  odors  sweet ; 
A  harp  to  chant  her  Maker's  praise, 

Before  her  Saviour's  feet. 

This  harp  is  tuned  to  chant  the  song 

Of  Moses  and  the  Lamb ; 
She  bows  herself,  and  casts  her  crown 

Before  the  great  I  Am. 
Contrast  her  blessedness  above, 

And  pilgrimage  below ; 
Now  raised  to  high,  extatic  joy, 

Then  sunk  in  pain  and  woe. 

And  say,  my  soul,  canst  thou  complain  ? 

I  answer  not  a  word, 
But  join  her  spirit  in  a  strain, 

Of  glory  to  the  Lord. 
And  now  my  faith  and  hope  combine, 

God's  gracious  aid  implore, 
That  I,  ere  long,  may  greet  her  mine, 

On  Canaan's  happy  shore. 


G.    W.    CHAPMAN.  27 

ON  MY  BIRTH-DAY.* 


Hail !  blessed  Christmas,  precious  word, 
The  brightest  feature  of  my  date  ; 
The  birth-day  of  my  blessed  Lord, 
The  glory  of  his  advent  great. 

I  claim  it  too  as  my  birth-day  ; 
Alas  !  it 's  found  me  in  the  dark  ! 
I  turn  its  beauty  to  survey, 
And  lo  !  it  says,  I  must  depart. 

My  seventy-fifth  has  come,  and  fled  ; 
On  Jordan's  brink  I  lingering  stand, 
Ready  to  mingle  with  the  dead, 
When  e'er  my  Master  gives  command. 

Bless'd  Jesus,  bid  me  come  to  thee  : 
I  ready  come,  or  willing  stay, 
Till  thou  a  convoy  send  for  me, 
To  guide  me  through  the  lonely  way. 

Then  Jordan's  stream  I'll  fear  no  more, 
No  more  I  '11  dread  the  chilling  wave  ; 
My  spirit  upward  then  will  soar  ; 
To  Jesus  whom  my  soul  hath  saved. 

December  25, 1855, 1  was  75  years  of  age. 


28  WRITINGS    OF 

LUTHER  AT  THE  DIET  OF  WORMS, 


I  love  in  nature's  field  to  roam, 

To  view  the  beauties  there  portrayed ; 

In  peaceful  silence  all  alone, 

Where  God  his  wisdom  has  displayed. 

The  Bible,  still  a  fairer  field, 
I  love  to  search  with  humble  prayer ; 
To  see  God's  wisdom  there  revealed, 
And  Jesus'  beauty  portrayed  there. 

With  equal  care  and  solemn  thought, 
I'd  search  the  history  of  our  race  ; 
To  see  the  wonders  Christ  has  wrought, 
Both  by  his  miracles  and  grace. 

See  Luther,  famed  for  love  and  zeal, 
And  called  to  manage  Christ's  affairs ; 
Receive  his  mighty  sword  to  wield, 
In  answer  to  his  faith  and  paayers. 

Thus  armed  with  truth  the  prophet  sped, 
To  sound  the  mysteries  of  his  God : 
The  man  of  sin  before  him  fled ; 
The  Pontiff  shrunk  beneath  his  rod. 

His  herald  flew  the  world  around, 
A  glorious  epoch  of  God's  grace  ; 
The  foe  received  his  deadly  wound, 
And  shrank  with  horror  to  his  place. 


G.    W.   CHAPMAN.  29 

The  papal  Church  in  sad  dismay, 
Forewarned  the  Diet  to  beware  ; 
The  intrepid  monk,  that  ran  away — 
Is  preaching  Jesus  everywhere  ! 

Great  Charles  the  fifth,  that  man  of  power, 

Exasperated  by  his  loss  ; 

Sent  forth  his  edicts  in  a  shower 

All  sanctioned  with  his  seal  and  cross. 

But  Luther,  fearless  of  his  threats, 
Proceeds  to  preach  the  Gospel  truth  ; 
And  all  his  boasting  threatnings  met, 
By  preaching  Jesus  to  the  youth. 

The  Diet  to  its  center  shook, 
When  thus  the  man  of  God  appeared 
With  his  flaming  sword,  God's  Holy  Book, 
To  Worms  in  triumph  persevered  ! 

That  arrant  mystery,  whore  of  Rome, 
He  sacked  and  rifled  of  her  robe, 
And  made  quite  bare,  and  left  forlorn, 
To  writhe  and  welter  in  her  blood. 

The  Pope,  imperial,  strove  to  hide ! 
The  dragon,  wounded,  fled  apace, 
The  mass  of  error,  like  a  tide, 
Was  vanquished  by  the  power  of  grace. 


30  WRITINGS    OF 

Thus  Luther  shook  the  papal  power, 
The  dread  and  terror  of  the  world ! 
And  in  that  most  auspicious  hour, 
The  flag  of  Jesus  there  unfurled. 

Thus  Jesus  magnifies  his  grace  ; 
We  inhale  his  love  with  every  breath  ; 
This  earth,  his  former  dwelling  place, 
Must  shout  the  triumph  of  his  death. 

Let  Christ  in  triumph  still  prevail, 
Round  the  wide  earth  and  wider  sea  ; 
Till  the  whole  world  his  love  inhale, 
And  shout  his  glorious  victory. 


ON  THE  KEROSENE  OIL. 


The  Kerosene  is  clear  and  bright, 
It  even  helps  the  blind  to  sight ; — 

As  man  and  wife  are  one : 
For  I,  through  wife,  do  clearly  see, 
Therefore  the  Kerosene  to  me — 

Is  brilliant  as  the  sun. 

So  please  accept  this  little  note — 
For  help  at  home,  or  more  remote, 

That  others  blind  may  see  ; 
That  when  you're  dealing  out  the  same, 
Just  cast  your  eye  upon  my  name, 

And  deal  a  lot  to  me. 


G.    W.    CHAPMAN.  31 

JORDAN,  A  TYPE  OF  CHRIST. 


The  types  and  shadows  all  have  passed, 
Were  needful  in  their  place  and  time  : 

The  Ante  type  appeared  at  last — 
With  natures  human  and  divine  ! 

Great  Lebanon,  with  all  its  grace, 
And  Jordan  flowing  from  its  side ; 

As  types  can  only  have  a  place, 

With  all  their  beauty,  strength  and  pride, 

A  glorious  Antetype  appears  ! 

'Tis  Jesus,  full  of  grace  and  truth  ! 
A  Saviour,  though  a  babe  in  tears, 

A  lad,  a  humble,  peaceful  youth. 

Anon,  a  man  of  age  I  see — 

Baptized,  by  John,  in  Jordan's  stream, 
The  Saviour,  Jesus,  lo !  'twas  he, 

"  On  whom  the  Spirit  did  remain." 

Great  Jordan  blesses  e'en  the  shore, 
And  all  the  neighboring  lands  around ; 

So  Jesus  blesses  more,  yea,  more, 

Where  e'er  his  Gospel  grace  is  found ! 


32  WRITINGS    OF 

The  leprous  man  may  find  a  cure 

By  washing  in  great  Jordan's  stream  : 

The  leprous  soul  in  Jesus'  blood 
May  wash,  and  be  forever  clean  ! 

Jordan  still  onward,  onward  flows 

Through  lakes  and  seas  to  reach  its  rest ; 

So  Jesus,  for  the  good  of  souls, 

O'er  seas  and  lakes  the  world  to  bless  ! 

Still  Jordan's  waters  I'll  pursue 
To  the  Dead  Sea,  its  destined  bed  : 

So  Jesus,  on  the  cross  I  view ; 

And  in  the  tomb,  as  one  that's  dead. 

Still  Jordan's  waters  doth  arise 

To  bless  the  earth  with  dew  and  rain  ; 

So  Jesus  rose  above  the  skies 

To  shower  salvation  down  to  men  ! 

And  here  the  analogy  must  stop  ; 

Great  Jordan  is  a  mighty  stream, 
And  Lebanon,  a  blessed  spot, 

Adorned  with  cedars  ever  green. 

But  they  are  cyphers  to  my  Lord ; 

He  made  them  by  his  power  alone  : 
As  types,  they  serve  to  prove  his  word, 

But  they  for  sin  cannot  atone. 


G.    W.    CHAPMAN.  88 

Hence  Jesus  is  the  sovereign  Lord, 

The  Alpha  and  Omega  to  ! 
The  Prince  of  peace,  the  blessed  word, 

The  holy  record,  just  and  true  ! 


ACROSTIC. 


REV.    CHARLES    FROST. 


Repent,  believe,  the  preacher  cried, 
E'er  you're  bereft  of  life  and  breath ; 
Vast  numbers  floating  with  the  tide, 
Careless,  have  found  an  early  death. 

Christ  reigns  forever  more  above, 
High  to  dispense  his  blessings  down ; 
Arrayed  in  majesty  and  love, 
Radiant  with  glory  for  his  crown ; 
Life  based  on  immortality, 
Eternal  as  the  throne  of  God, 
Salvation  too,  forever  free, 

By  faith  in  Christ's  atoning  blood, 

Free  from  the  din  of  noise  and  strife, 

Rejoicing  in  the  love  of  God, 

On  wings  of  faith  flew  for  his  life  ; 

Swiftly  to  attain  his  last  abode, 

True  so  his  covenant  and  God. 
2* 


34  WRITINGS    OF 

ACROSTIC. 

EDWIN  A.  AND  ELMIRA  BUCK,  BETHEL. 


Eternal  truth  is  thine  to  preach, 
Declare  it  as  the  word  of  God ; 
Why  will  ye  die  ?  inquire  !  beseech  ! 
Impress  it  with,  "  thus  saith  the  Lord," 
Nor  think  that  merit  you  have  aught ; 

As  Christ  the  Lord  salvation  wrought. 

Eternal  be  thy  mercy,  Lord  ; 
Life  is  a  blank  without  thy  love  ; 
My  soul  is  nourished  by  thy  word, 
I  sigh  to  be  with  thee  above, 
Redeemer,  Saviour,  let  me  be 
A  humble  suppliant  near  to  thee. 

Blest  brother,  sister,  you  I  greet, 
Unknown,  perhaps,  by  this  address, 
Cheered  with  the  thought  that  when  we  met, 
Kindly  the  kindred  you'll  confess. 

Blessed  be  your  little  daughters  fair  ; 
Each  nourished  with  a  mother's  love 
Together  with  a  father's  care, 
Heaven  kindly  aiding  from  above, 
Each  growing  sweeter  as  they  grow, 
Like  fragrant  lilies  when  they  blow. 

Those  little  daughters,  as  you  see, 
Are  now  in  Bethel  bound  to  be. 


G.    W.    CHAPMAN.  35 

Sir,  you  may  take  them  to  the  west — 
And  hug  those  darlings  to  your  breast, 
And  keep  them  in  against  their  will, 
And  yet  in  Bethel  they  are  still : — 
Or  you  may  take  them  eastward  far, — 
Or  northward  to  the  polar  star — 
Or  southward,  to  the  fertile  ground, 
Yet  still  in  Bethel  they  are  found. 
Now,  candid  reader,  tell  me,  do, 
How  this  enigma  can  be  true ; 
How  they  can  roam  from  sea  to  sea, 
And  yet  in  Bethel  bound  to  be  ? 


ACROSTIC. 

TILDEN    UPTON. 

True  faith  will  lead  to  God  in  prayer, 
In  all  your  trials  bear  a  part ; 
Love  too  will  in  your  trials  share, 
Decked  with  a  gem  of  peace  at  heart ; 
E'en  all  these  graces  thus  apply, 
New  strength  will  give  if  sanctified. 

Up  to  the  Saviour  look  and  live, 
Put  all  your  trust  in  him  alone, 
True  peace  and  pardon  he  will  give, 
Obtain  it,  pleading  at  his  throne, 
New  fruits  of  love,  before  unknown. 


36  WHITINGS    OF 

ACROSTIC. 

DAVID    AND    MARY    ELIZABETH    T.  GARLAND. 

Delight  thyself  in  Gospel  truth, 
And  preach  it  with  a  prophet's  care  ; 
View  with  a  melting  heart  the  youth 
In  readiness  the  truth  to  hear. 
Declare  it  as  to  dying  men, 

As  written  with  a  prophet's  pen. 

Mere  names  are  cyphers,  when  alone, 
And  little  better  misapplied  ; 
Round  yours  a  heavenly  luster  shone, 
Yours  was  in  heaven  ratified. 

Each  letter  set  in  gems  of  love, 
Lasting  as  marble  pillars  are  ; 
Inscribed  with  honors  from  above, 
Zion's  sure  hope  is  promised  there. 
And  is  the  Saviour  formed  in  you, 
Beloved  sister,  ever  blest  ? 
E'en  though  you  die,  your  all  is  due 
To  Him  for  heaven's  eternal  rest. 
Heaven,  O  my  soul !  I  join  with  you 

To  celebrate  Christ's  love  anew. 

Great  is  thy  labor  to  perform, 
And  greater  may  the  blessing  be  : 
Rouse  up  you  powers,  and  sinners  warn, 


G.    W.    CHAPMAN.  37 

Labor  for  Him,  who  died  for  thee. 
A  glorious  crown  awaits  your  brow, 
New  garments  of  salvation  wait : 
Declare  the  truth,  redeem  your  vow, 
Aud  lead  the  van  to  Zion's  gate. 


ACROSTIC. 

REV.    JOHN    H.    MERRILL. 

Rejoice,  my  soul,  in  Jesus'  name 
Eternal  life  is  his  to  give. 
View  all  the  promises  the  same — 
By  faith,  with  pleasure  on  them  live. 

Just  as  I'd  reached  the  height  of  life, 

0  what  a  pang  assailed  my  heart ! 
Heaven  sent  a  message  for  my  wife, 
No  power  could  stay  her,  we  must  part : 

Hope  smitten  by  the  monarch's  dart. 

Mere  earthly  comforts  all  must  part ; 
Eternal  is  the  love  of  God : 
Rejoice  that  we  may  all  at  last, 
Redemption  find  in  Jesus'  blood. 

1  live  by  faith  on  Jesus'  name  : 
Lord,  what  a  pleasure  thus  to  live  : 
Life  would  be  branded  deep  with  shame, 

But  for  the  grace  my  Saviour  gives. 


38  WRITINGS  OF 

ON  THE  PARAFFINE  CANDLE. 


We  've  just  approached  Mechanic's  Fau- 
lts beauties  to  descry, 

And  lo  !  a  specimen  was  there — 
To  help  the  darken'd  eye  ! 

'Twas  paraffine,  in  candle  form, 

A  beauty  to  behold  ; 
Transparent  as  a  jasper  stone, 

And  clear  as  polished  gold. 

Nor  could  its  worth  be  fully  known, 

Until  the  match  applied ; 
Then  round  the  room  its  luster  shone, 

Eclipsing  all  beside. 

Yet  there's  one  light  surpasses  all, 
It's  the  Sun  of  Righteousness ; 

The  Star  of  Bethlehem,  so-called, 
A  light  that  ne'er  will  cease. 

No,  never,  never  cease  to  shine — 

Eternal,  clear  and  bright : 
It  may  be  yours,  as  well  as  mine, 

An  endless,  heavenly  light ! 

And  who  will  share  with  me  this  light  ? 

Dear  fellow  sinner,  say  ? 
And  have  your  darkness  turned  to  light,- 

Your  night  to  endless  day ! 


G.    W.    CHAPMAN.  39 

CELEBRATION   OF  JULY  4,  1859, 

AT  THE  MINERAL  SPRING,  IN  BETHEL. 

Here  we  are  gathered  round  the  Spring, 

To  celebrate  the  day ; 
We  drink  the  healing  waters  in, 

To  drive  disease  away. 

This  house,  we  dedicate  to  be 

A  place  for  food  and  rest : 
And  may  its  patrons  ever  find — 

Supplies  the  very  best. 

These  waters  may  assuage  your  thirst, 

And  cleanse  the  ruptured  skin  ; 
Can  help  to  fill  the  landlord's  purse, 

But  can't  atone  for  sin. 

Then  drink,  beloved,  slake  your  thirst, 

And  make  your  bodies  clean  : 
But  come  to  Jesus,  as  you  must 

To  cleanse  your  souls  from  sin. 

See  here's  a  fountain,  deep  and  wide, 

Which  ne'er  will  cease  to  run ; 
It  issues  from  the  Saviour's  side, 

God's  well  beloved  Son ! 

Here  you  may  spend  your  money  fast, 

And  wisely,  for  a  cure  ; 
But  you  must  come  to  Christ  at  last 

For  health  that  will  endure. 


40  WRITINGS    OF 

Then  come  with  us,  we'll  do  you  good ; 

The  Saviour  bids  you  come : 
He  all  the  powers  of  hell  withstood, 

To  bring  us  wanderers  home  ! 


ACROSTIC. 

AUSTIN    FRISBIE. 

A  precious  thought  that  God  is  love ; 
Unto  his  throne  of  Grace  I'll  go, 
Share  in  the  joys  of  those  above ; 
Those  joys  that  none  but  love  can  know 
I  love  the  Lord,  I  love  his  name, 
Nor  can  my  faith  or  hope  be  vain. 

Faith  takes  its  sister  hand  in  hand  ; 
Rejoices  with  her,  side  by  side  ; 
Inspired  with  love  the  angel  band- 
Send  forth  their  joy  with  holy  pride. 
Bless'd,  most  blessed,  those  must  be 
Inspired  with  graces  so  divine  : 
Eternal  truth  with  these  agree, 
With  these  eternally  will  shine. 


G.    W.    CHAPMAN.  41 

A  TRUE  BEAR  STORY. 


One  evening  in  October,  1809,  my  wife  and  I,  and  a  lady 
who  was  stopping  with  us  at  that  time,  and  our  two 
babies,  were  returning  home  from  an  evening  visit  to  one 
of  our  neighbors. 

Both  ladies  with  one  of  the  babies  were  mounted  on 
one  horse,  and  I  with  the  other  child  walking  by  their  side. 

As  we  neared  a  corn-field  which  laid  by  the  roadside, 
my  dog  bounded  over  the  fence  as  though  helped  by  a 
propelling  power. 

A  minute  after,  an  old  bear  with  two  cubs,  came  rushing 
over  the  fence,  and  crossed  our  path  a  few  yards  in  front 
of  us,  aiming  for  the  forest,  which  was  bounded  by  our 
pathway.  The  cubs  to  escape  the  dog,  scrambled  up  a 
tree. 

The  bear,  enraged  at  the  insult,  turned  upon  the  dog 
with  great  fury,  and  he  to  escape  her  grasp,  ran  imme- 
diately to  me  for  shelter. 

At  this  sight  the  horse  took  fright  and  faced  square 
about,  leaving  the  ladies  and  baby  prostrate  on  the  ground. 

The  bear,  at  a  nearer  approach  to  me,  stood  erect  with 
a  threatening  growl,  as  much  as  to  say,  I  am  ready  for  a 
fight. 

I  stood  with  my  eyes  fixed  upon  her,  and  she  soon  left 
without  doing  injury  to  any  of  us.  I  have  portrayed  this 
event  in  a  few  lines  of  poetry. 

This  frightful  beast  with  flaming  eyes, 
And  gnashing  teeth  and  monstrous  size, 
All  tiptoe,  ready  for  a  fight, 
Must  be  ones'  dread  at  dead  of  night. 


42  WRITINGS    OF 

Must  be  one's  dread  when  wife  and  babes 
Lie  prostrate  near  the  beast  enraged. 
I  furled  my  flag  and  sued  for  peace, 
Stood  silent  by  the  frightful  beast. 

She  left  her  post  with  a  farewell, 
Please  keep  your  babies  boy  and  girl, 
Give  me  my  whelps,  I'll  go  my  way, 
And  term  the  fracas  naught  but  play. 

The  dog  in  silence  did  confess 
He  was  a  nuisance,  more  nor  less, 
He  dropped  his  tail  and  stole  for  home, 
Lest  he  should  there  be  left  alone. 

The  horse  remembering  what  had  been, 
Was  soon  found  trotting  back  again, 
The  women  knowing  well  their  place 
Re-mounted  ready  for  a  race. 

And  so  you  see  the  game  was  played, 
All  in  the  dark  and  evening  shade  ; 
Each  had  an  interest  much  the  same, 
And  each  rejoiced  to  win  the  game. 


G.   W.   CHAPM  AN.  43 

ACROSTIC. 

REV.    WILLIAM    R.    CHAPMAN. 

Rejoice  in  Christ  and  bless  his  name  ; 
Earth  cannot  give  the  conscience  rest ; 
Value  the  soul,  and  loud  proclaim, 
"  Believe,  and  be  forever  bless'd." 

Who  shall  ascend  the  heavenly  hill  ? 
Inspired  with  love,  the  Prophet  cried. 
Lord,  who  ?  may  be  the  inquiry  still ; 
Love,  true  benevolence  replied, 
In  the  regions  of  the  bless'd, 
Arrayed  in  immortality ; 
Methinks  I  see  him  stand  confes'd. 

Redeemed  by  Christ,  forever  free  ; 

Chosen  of  God  and  sanctified  ; 
He's  fled  to  the  bright  world  above : 
Admitted  to  the  Saviour's  side  ; 
Peace  is  his  mantle  decked  with  love. 
Music  is  chanted  all  around ; 
Almighty  love  inspires  the  lay ! 
Now  sparkling  with  a  starry  crown ; 
Bright  as  the  dawn  of  endless  day. 


44  WRITINGS   OF 

ACROSTIC. 

REV.    SWAN    LYMAN    POMROY,    PORTLAND. 

Rise  up  my  soul,  march  fearless  on, 
Enter  the  pearly  gate  of  love : 
Vast  numbers  have  before  thee  gone  — 
Gone  through  this  gate  to  joys  above. 

Safety  is  in  the  Lord  alone, 
Whate'er  we  do,  where'er  we  be ; 
Angels  cannot  for  sins  atone, 
Nor  set  the  suff 'ring  captive  free. 

Let  Jesus  then  be  all  my  theme, 
Yea,  may  I  love  him  more  and  more  ; 
May  I  be  ever  found  in  Him, 
And  him  forever  I'll  adore, 
Now  saved  by  grace  fore vermore. 

Prepare  me  for  thy  service,  Lord, 
O  grant  me  the  sweet  grace  of  love  : 
My  soul  is  nourished  by  thy  word, 
Radiant  with  glory  from  above. 
O  precious  gift !  that  word  of  thine  — 
Yielding  the  fruit  of  love  divine ! 

Peace  be  to  you,  my  worthy  friend, 

O  may  it  like  a  river  be  ! 

Rejoice  in  Christ,  on  him  depend 

To  cheer  your  heart,  and  make  you  free. 

Live,  live  forever,  brother,  you, 

And  may  you  never  suffer  pain, 

Nor  of  your  Saviour  lose  your  view : 

Death,  thus  disarmed,  will  be  your  gain. 


G.    W.    CHAPMAN.  45 

ACROSTIC. 

MRS.  ANN  Q.  POMROY. 

May  I  be  watchful  ever  more, 
Remembering  what  my  Lord  has  done  : 
Salvation  by  his  grace  and  power, 

By  grace,  and  not  by  works  alone. 

Angel,  dear  sister,  would  you  be, 
No  more  with  sin  and  earth  defiled ; 
New  heavens  with  perfect  vision  see, 

Quiet  and  peaceful  as  a  child. 

Pure  as  an  angel  dressed  in  love ; 
Old  nature  sinking  down  with  all : 
Music,  akin  to  that  above, 
Rejoice  to  hear  thy  Saviour's  call. 
O  glorious  state  !  can  this  be  mine  ? 
Yes,  this  and  more  forever  thine. 

Peace  like  a  river  deep  and  wide, 
O  may  you  in  it  live  and  swim ; 
Rejoice  to  see  the  rising  tide, 
To  see  it  daily  flowing  in. 
Love  is  the  sweetest  fruit  of  heaven, 
And  grows  at  large  spontaneous  there  ; 
New  fruits  to  pilgrims  will  be  given  ; 
Dear  sister,  we  shall  have  our  share. 


46  WRITINGS    OF 

ON  THE  RECEPTION  OF    THE    BELL, 

FOR  THE  CHURCH  AT  GORHAM,  N.  H. 

Hail,  sounding  Beauty !  lo,  you've  come 
To  call  us  to  our  Church  on  time ; 

With  joy  we  greet  you  one  by  one, 
In  answer  to  your  faithful  chime. 

We  greet  you  with  a  lofty  song, 
And  raise  you  to  our  highest  post ; 

And  pray  your  influence  may  be  long 
To  gather  here  a  mighty  host — 

To  hear  the  Gospel's  joyful  sound, 
To  meet  the  Saviour  in  his  love  ; 

That  grace  to  sinners  may  abound, 
And  joy  to  angels  high  above. 

But  Christ  must  have  our  noblest  song, 
Who  gave  us  both,  the  church  and  bell, 

Redeemed  us  from  our  guilty  wrong 
And  saved  our  sinking  souls  from  hell. 

Then  lofty  Herald  sound  your  call, 
We'll  listen  to  your  faithful  chime, 

And  into  Church,  both  great  and  small, 
To  worship  at  the  Saviour's  shrine. 


G.    W.    CHAPMAN.  47 

ACROSTIC. 

GILES    SHURTLEFF. 

Give  me  the  faith  of  joys  to  come, 
In  answer  to  my  humble  prayer ; 
Life  through  the  merits  of  thy  Son, 
Eternal  as  thy  mercies  are. 
Saved  thus  by  grace,  I  fear  no  loss, 
While  clinging  to  the  Saviour's  cross. 

Salvation  thus  by  grace  divine  ; 
Heaven  is  the  longed  for  rest  above  : 
Up  Jacob's  ladder  you  must  climb, 
Raised  by  the  Saviour's  dying  love. 
Transported  by  my  Saviour's  call, 
Love  kindles  to  a  glowing  flame, 
E'er  I'm  aware  my  raptured  soul, 
Fain  would  arise 
Fly  and  begone ! 


48  WHITINGS    OF 

ACROSTIC. 

DR.  JOHN  BARKER,  BETHEL. 

Dear  to  our  memory  is  his  name, 
Rejoice  in  hope  to  meet  again. 

Joy  is  a  precious  christian  grace, 
On  earth  its  worth  cannot  be  known  : 
Heaven  is  its  rightful  dwelling  place  ; 
Nor  is  it  perfect  there  alone. 

Bless'd  be  those  mother's  features  fair, 
And  tinctured  with  a  father's  look  : 
Rejoice  that  in  them  both  you  share, 
Kept  like  a  picture  in  a  book. 
Each  of  those  features,  faith  and  love, 
Retain,  to  guide  thee  safe  above. 

Blest  features  these,  to  contemplate, 
E'en  these  that's  flushed  with  holy  fear  ; 
'Tis  this  that  constitutes  the  great : 
Heaven  is  its  center,  place  so  dear  ; 
E'er  earth  was  formed,  it  had  its  shape, 
Like  faith  of  love  it  doth  partake. 


G.    W.    CHAPMAN.  49 

ACROSTIC. 

GEORGE  W.  AND  MARY  A.  SANBOURN. 

Gracious  Redeemer,  help  me  come, 
Eternal  Spirit,  at  thy  call ; 
O  save  a  sinking  soul  undone ! 
Redeemer,  Saviour,  Lord  of  all ! 
Grant  me,  dear  Saviour,  love  divine  ; 
Eternal  Spirit,  seal  me  thine. 

When  all  my  other  hopes  are  gone, 
May  I  at  death  repeat  this  song. 

Most  blessed  those,  who  sigh  for  grace 
And  faith  in  Jesus  Christ  their  Lord ; 
Rejoice  his  perfect  life  to  trace,  t 
Yielding  obedience  to  his  word. 

And  may  I,  Mary,  do  the  same, 
Rejoice  at  death  and  sing  his  name. 

Self  is  an  enemy  to  grace, 
And  often  interferes  with  love : 
Nature  with  self  would  fain  keep  pace, 
But  faith  points  up  to  joys  above. 
On  Christ  I  cast  myself,  my  all ; 
Unworthy  sinner,  all  my  plea : 
Redeemer,  save  me  ere  I  fall ! 
No  other  power  can  rescue  me. 
3 


50  WRITINGS    OF 

ACROSTIC. 

HANNAH  P.  B.  AND  GEORGE  W.  CHAPMAN,  BETHEL. 

Hail,  thou  delightful  Sabbath  morn  ! 
An  emblem  of  the  heavenly  rest ; 
New  beauties  through  thy  radiance  dawn, 
New  pleasures  to  my  anxious  breast. 
A  glory  gilds  the  sacred  time, 
Hope,  smiling,  greets  it  from  above  ; 

Peace  like  a  diamond  in  it  shines, 

Beaming  with  mercy,  joy,  and  love. 

Gracious  Redeemer,  may  I  say, 
E'en  when  I  lift  my  hands  to  pray, 
Or  when  by  faith  in  humble  prayer 
Rejoice  to  find  thee  every  where, — 
Good  Master,  thou  my  chief  delight, 
E'en  though  my  day  is  turned  to  night, 

Where  else  shall  happiness  be  found  ? 

Christ  is  the  only  living  way ; 

Heaven  with  his  love  and  grace  abounds, 

Angels  his  mandate  all  obey, 

Peace,  like  a  river,  gently  flows, — 

My  soul  would  e'en  undress  and  swim, 

And  in  its  bosom  find  repose, 

Nor  to  the  earth  return  again. 


G.    W.    CHAPMAN.  51 

Blest  be  the  tie  that  binds  these  hearts, 
Each  heart  replete  with  heavenly  love ; 
'Tis  Christ  those  treasures  doth  impart, 
Heaven  is  the  treasury  high  above  ; 
Eternal  source  of  love  divine, 
Let  me  transcribe  and  make  it  mine. 


EARTH  AND  HEAVEN. 

On  milk  and  honey  here  we  feast, 

A  sweet  repast  withall, 
But  be  assured  we  too  must  taste 

The  wormwood  and  the  gall. 

We  flap  the  wings  of  joy  and  love, 
And  upward  fain  would  rise, 

But  death  commissioned  from  above, 
Arrests  us  by  surprise. 

Then  flee  to  Jesus,  hold  him  fast, 

'Tis  he  forgives  our  sins, 
And  he  will  bring  us  home  at  last, 

To  be  fore'er  with  him. 

There  sin  and  sorrow  all  will  cease, 

We  beautified  with  love, 
On  sweet  celestial  food  to  feast, 

Forever  more  above. 


52  WRITINGS    OF 

ACROSTIC. 

ALMIRA    HASTY. 

Alas  for  me,  I  am  undone, 
Lord,  cast  thy  banner  o'er  me,  do ! 
May  I  by  faith  to  Jesus  come ; 
Inspired  with  love,  for  mercy  sue. 
Reveal  thy  mercy,  Lord,  to  me, 
And  set  thy  humble  suppliant  free. 

Hail,  darling,  what  a  blessed  choice, 
Angels  will  lead  thee  by  the  way  ; 
Safe  now  with  them  you  may  rejoice, 
Thrice  happy 
You  will  be  for  aye. 


ACROSTIC. 

BRACKETT    WINSLOW    TRUE.* 

Brief  was  my  subject's  earthly  stay, 
Rich  were  the  treasures  of  his  mind, 
Angels  announced,  "Behold,  he  prays!" 
Charmed  with  a  spirit  so  resigned  ; 
Kept  by  the  grace  and  love  of  God, 
Eternal  peace  survived  his  breath  ; 
Taught  true  submission  by  his  word, 
This  peace  was  his  support  in  death. 

*  Died  October,  1862. 


G.    W.   CHAPMAN.  53 

Wisdom  to  him  came  robed  in  light, 
Inspired  with  mercy  from  above, 
Nature,  subdued,  arrayed  in  white, 
Safe  in  the  arms  of  Faith  and  Love. 
Lo  !  how  he  loved  his  Saviour's  name  ! 
Only  in  him  could  he  rejoice, 
With  angel's  love  and  angel's  strains, 
With  angel's  peace,  and  angel's  joys. 

Thrice  happy  he,  forever  blest ! 
Rich  were  his  graces,  all  divine  ; 
Upward  he  soared  to  find  his  rest, 
Ever  in  heaven's  pure  light  to  shine. 


ACROSTIC. 

LAURA    C.    HALL. 

Lord,  what  a  fleeting  dust  am  I ! 
As  the  swift  meteor  tends  to  earth, 
Unconscious,  onward  too,  I  fly ; 
Rich  only  by  my  Saviour's  birth  ; 
A  weary  soul,  I'd  leave  my  load, 

Cheered  with  the  hope  to  be  with  God. 

High  as  my  thoughts  may  soar  above, 
As  high,  may  this,  my  heart  aspire ; 
Lord,  give  me  the  sweet  grace  of  love, 
Love,  that  will  grow  and  never  tire. 


54  WRITINGS    OF 

ACROSTIC. 

PHEBE    M.    BUXTON. 

Prepare  for  heaven,  Phebe,  do  ; 
Heaven  is  the  place  of  perfect  love, 
Eternal  pleasures,  ever  new, 
Bright  as  the  radiant  light  above  : 
Endless  as  vast  eternity, 

Mingled  with  blest  infinity. 

But  tell  me  Phebe,  are  you  safe, 
Upheld  by  God's  abounding  love  ; 
'Xalted  by  the  grace  of  faith, 
To  vie  with  angels  high  above  ? 
O  glorious  state,  by  love  divine, 
No  fear,  if  so,  for  all  is  thine ! 


ACROSTIC. 

HANNAH    C.    HODSDON. 

Here  is  a  specimen  of  love, 
A  precious  gem  of  grace  divine : 
New  joys  akin  to  those  above ; 
No  more  to  sin  and  death  inclined. 
A  tender  conscience,  heart  of  love ; 
Hope  kindled  to  an  heavenly  flame ! 

Christ  is  her  center  star  above, 
Her  hope  is  in  his  blessed  name. 


G.    W.    CHAPMAN.  55 

Hope  is  the  anchor  of  her  soul, 
O  precious  gem !     O  hope  divine ! 
Death  may  assail,  but  can't  control 
Souls  that  to  Jesus  all  resign. 
Death  did  assail  her  placid  form, 
Only  to  help  her  flight  above ! 
New  robes  her  spirit  doth  adorn, 

Robes,  radiant  with  her  Saviour's  love  ! 


ACROSTIC. 

MARY    B.    ROBERTSON. 

May  I  enjoy  my  Saviour's  love, 
And  love  him  too  with  all  my  heart  ? 
Rejoice  in  hope  of  heaven  above, 
Yea,  heaven  with  Jesus  ne'er  to  part. 

Bless'd  hope,  how  cheering  to  my  heart ; 

Rough,  though  my  passage  here  has  been, 
O  who  would  grudge  with  earth  to  part ; 
Be  then  with  Jesus,  freed  from  sin : 
Earth  then  would  vanish,  disappear  ; 
Radiant  my  soul,  with  heavenly  love, 
Tenfold  to  when  a  sufferer  here, 
Safe  in  those  mansions,  far  above : 
O  blessed  state  !  can  this  be  mine  ? 
No  fiction  this,  for  all  is  thine. 


56  WRITINGS    OF 

ACROSTIC. 

LOUISA   DAVENPORT   TINKHAM. 

Life,  what  a  fleeting  vapor  'tis, 
O  may  I  keep  its  end  in  view  ; 
Upward  my  thoughts  and  heart  arise, 
Inspired  with  love,  as  angels  do  ; 
Shake  off  this  dust,  in  league  with  pain, 
And  rise,  with  Jesus  to  remain  : 

Dressed  in  a  robe  my  Saviour  wrought, 
And  this  my  blessed,  heavenly  dress ; 
Vast,  and  entire,  without  a  spot, 
E'en  he,  the  Lord,  my  righteousness. 
Nature,  old  nature,  sure  must  fall : 
Peace,  like  a  river,  flows  with  bliss, 
O  Saviour,  thou  art  all  in  all ! 
Redeemer, 
Truth  and  righteousness. 


*&* 


Test  well,  my  soul,  the  way  of  life, 
Inspired  with  matchless  grace  and  love, 
No  more  deter' d  by  cares  and  strife ; 
Keep  the  highway  to  heaven  above. 
Heaven  is  the  blessed  throne  of  God ; 
And  streets  of  gold,  with  pearly  gates  ; 
Mark  well  the  way ;  'tis  stained  with  blood  ! 
There  starry  crowns  for  conquerors  wait. 


G.    W.    CHAPMAN.  57 

ACROSTIC. 

MISS    MARY    CAROLINE    BRADBURY. 

Music  is  blessed,  set  to  verse  ; 
In  different  meters  it  will  chime. 
Sing,  darling  lady,  and  rehearse  : 
Sing,  lovely  angel,  to  the  time. 

More  blessed  they,  who  sigh  for  grace 
And  faith  in  Jesus  Christ  their  Lord : 
Rejoice  his  perfect  life  to  trace  ; 
Yielding  obedience  to  his  word. 

Charm'd  with  my  Saviour's  dying  love, 
And  hope  of  interest  therein  ; 
Redemption  coining  from  above, 
On  terms  to  vanquish  death  and  sin. 
Lord,  give  me  grace  to  love  thee  more, 
In  all  my  straits  to  lean  on  thee ; 
No  other  God  but  thee  adore  ; 
Eternal  as  thy  day  may  be. 

Bright  beams  of  mercy  all  around, 
Redeeming  grace  and  dying  love  ; 
And  may  thy  love  to  me  abound, 
Dearest  of  all  the  names  above  ? 
Beauty  is  mingled  with  delight, 
Unbounded  goodness  overflows ! 
Rejoice,  ye  angels  at  the  sight ! 
Yea,  join  in  heavenly  strains  to  close. 


58  WRITINGS    OF 

ACROSTIC. 

SARAH    LANGWORTHY,    BELFAST. 

Safe  in  the  arms  of  boundless  love, 
And  always  rising  higher  there  ; 
Redemption  coming  from  above, 
And  thus  by  faith  and  humble  prayer. 
Hope  is  my  anchor  full  of  faith  — 
Prepared  by  this  to  conquer  death. 

Lord,  give  me  grace  to  love  thee  more, 
And  to  appreciate  thy  love  : 
No  other  God  but  thee  adore, 
Great  sovereign  of  the  world  above. 
Why  should  I  dread  or  fear  to  die, 
O  Lord,  my  strength  and  righteousness  ? 
Rather  the  sting  of  death  defy, 
Through  faith  in  thy  abounding  grace. 
Hope,  blessed  hope,  forever  be ; 
Yea,  Lord,  my  hope  is  all  in  thee. 

Bright  beams  of  mercy  all  around  ; 
Eternal  goodness  overflows ; 
Lord,  may  my  love  to  thee  abound, 
Fresh  as  the  blooming,  fragrant  rose. 
And  may  I  find  some  happy  place, 
Salvation  sounding  from  my  tongue  : 
Transported  by  the  power  of  grace  — 
To  chant  thy  glory  in  my  song. 


G.    W.    CHAPMAN.  59 

ACROSTIC. 

TIMOTHY    A.    AND    LAURA    B.    CHAPMAN. 

Truth,  that  is  perfect,  every  part 
Is  near  allied  to  faith  and  love ; 
Mingled  with  beauty,  so  at  heart, 
On  terms  with  all  the  powers  above. 
Thrice  happy  in  this  bless'd  attire ; 
Heaven  would  be  broken  by  its  loss  ; 
Yea,  all  its  glory  would  expire, 

And  all  its  beauty  be  as  dross. 

Lord,  what  a  fleeting  dust  am  I, 
As  the  swift  meteor  tends  to  earth ; 
Unconscious  onward  too  I  fly ; 
Rich  only  by  my  Saviour's  birth. 
A  weary  soul,  I'd  leave  my  load ; 

By  faith  aspire  to  be  with  God. 

Christ's  gifts  are  always  sure  and  free  : 
Heaven  is  the  Saviour's  free  bequest, 
And  dying  sinners,  such  as  we, 
Prepares  for  heaven's  eternal  rest; 
More  blessed  sure  than  angels  are. 
And  who  would  not  attain  this  rest? 
Nor  fear  to  mount  the  Saviour's  car, — 
Its  terminus  is  with  the  blest. 


60  WRITINGS    OF 

ACROSTIC. 

CHARLES    BARKER. 

Cherish  your  hope  in  Jesus,  do ; 
Heaven  will  reward  the  service  well, 
As  all  you  have,  to  him  is  due, 
Rejoice  in  hope  with  him  to  dwell ; 
Life  is  the  gift  he  proffers  you, 
Eternal  life,  with  love  divine  ! 
Salvation,  O  salvation  too ! 

When  you,  your  all  to  him  resign ! 

Behold  your  bleeding,  dying  Lord, 
And  he  a  mighty  Saviour  too : 
Redemption  through  his  name  and  word, 
Kindly  he  offers  all  to  you. 
E'er  long  may  you  this  bliss  enjoy, 
Rejoice  in  hope,  my  darling  boy. 


ACROSTIC. 

GLORIANN    FANNING. 

Grace  is  the  gift  of  God  divine, 
Love  full  of  immortality, 
On  Jesus  these  unite  and  shine ; 
Rejoice  that  they  may  shine  in  thee. 
In  truth,  if  Christ  be  formed  in  yon, 
And  all  these  graces  center  there : 
Nature  restored,  or  formed  anew  ; 
New  creature  thus,  with  Christ  an  heir ! 


G.    W.    CHAPMAN.  61 

Faith,  in  these  graces,  claim  its  share, 
And  always  mingles  much  with  love  : 
New  strength  imparts  to  feeble  prayer, 
New  hope  and  comfort  from  above  ; 
Is  always  peaceful,  gentle,  mild  ; 
Nature  recedes  to  give  it  place  : 
Glori,  are  you  the  happy  child  ? 

Thus  fraught  with  every  christian  grace  ! 


ACROSTIC. 

ABBY    L.    CHAPMAN. 

Attend,  my  darling,  Jesus  speaks  ; 
Behold,  he's  knocking  at  your  door : 
Believe,  for  such  he  kindly  greets, 
You  ought  to  have  answered  him  before. 

Leave  all  and  meekly  Him  adore.    • 

Cast  all  your  unbelief  away, 
Heaven  is  the  gift  he  offers  you ; 
And  will  you  have  it,  darling,  say  ? 
Peace  is  the  path  you  must  pursue. 
Mount  on  the  wings  of  faith  and  love, 
And  soar  to  reach  the  heavenly  prize  ; 
No  fear,  since  Christ  your  course  appro  ves,- 
And  angels  joy  to  see  you  rise. 


02  WRITINGS    OF 

THOUGHTS  ON  MAN'S  DEPRAVITY, 

As  from  my  slumbers  I  awoke, 

Roused  by  the  muse,  I  thought  to  sing ; 

My  chant  in  solemn  accents  spoke, 
Death,  thy  destroying  power  is  sin. 

Then  through  this  wilderness  of'  sin, 
We're  hard  beset  on  every  side  ; 

The  viper  rankles  sore  within, 
To  envy,  hatred,  lust,  and  prick1. 

The  ancient  Hebrews  marching  round, 
Were  often  by  the  serpents  bit ; 

No  balsam  there  to  heal  their  wound, 
No  cure  by  surgeon,  nor  by  wit. 

The  wound  was  desperate,  certain  death  ; 

But  for  the  serpent  on  the  pole, 
To  look  at  which  prolonged  the  breath, 

But  had  no  power  to  save  the  soul. 

A  glorious  remedy  is  found, 

'Tis  Jesus'  righteousness,  and  blood  ; 

A  cure  for  every  sinner's  wound, 
The  pure  specific  grace  of  God. 


Think  not  to  work  for  self  alone, 
But  rather  labor  for  the  Lord ; 
Christ  will  for  all  your  sins  atone, 
If  you  obey  his  holy  word. 


G.    W.    CHAPMAN.  63 

ACROSTIC. 

CYPRIAN    S.    AND    ESTHER    E.    GREENWOOD. 

Christ  died  for  sinners,  such  as  we ; 
Yea,  Jesus  died  for  fallen  man : 
Prepare,  my  friend,  to  share  with  me — 
Redemption  through  his  blessed  name. 
In  all  the  maladies  of  life, 
As  sickness,  fraught  with  deadly  pain, 
No  power  can  fully  quell  the  strife, 

Save  faith  in  Jesus  blessed  name. 

Eternal  love  inspires  my  song, 
Salvation  echoes  from  the  sound : 
Truth  joins  to  bear  the  music  on, 
Heaven  with  these  graces  doth  abound. 
Elated  with  the  heavenly  strain  ; 
Rejoice  in  hope  of  future  rest. 

Eager  to  lose  my  heavy  chain, 
And  be  with  Jesus  ever  blest. 

Grace,  like  an  angel,  leads  the  van ; 
Repentance,  perfect  in  its  place, 
Eternal  love  approves  the  plan  ; 
Example  joins  with  smiling  face. 
Nature  indignant  at  the  sight, 
With  all  its  powers  resists  their  course ; 
On  every  side  prepares  to  fight ; 
Old  Legion  comes  with  all  his  force. 
Dear  brother,  sister,  take  your  stand  — 
Obey  the  Saviour's  sweet  command. 


64  WRITINGS    OF 

WRITTEN   FOR  THE   "JOURNAL."* 

Dear  Charlie,  be  assured  I  greet 
With  joy,  your  little  spicy  sheet ; 

And  with  much  pleasure  grant  my  aid, 
As  you  have  just  commenced  the  trade. 

But  see,  my  History  claims  my  pen, 
Can  only  help  you  now  and  then  ; 

Few  lines  of  prose,  as  few  of  song, 
To  help  your  little  Journal  on. 

Still  may  it  grow  in  strength  and  size, 
In  numbers  may  you  see  it  rise  ; 

In  strength  and  numbers,  size  and  fame, 
And  so  immortalize  your  name. 

Like  Timothy,  my  darling  boy, 

Give  Christ  your  heart,  invoke  his  love  ; 

And  from  the  light  of  earthly  joys, 
Aspire  to  nobler  joys  above. 


ACROSTIC. 

JOHN    AND    LUCIA    T.    KIMBALL. 

Jordan's  a  river  deep  and  wide, 
O'er  which  the  Israelites  must  go ; 
High  Heaven  rebuked  its  flowing  tide, 
Nor  could  it  Israel  overflow. 

*  A  paper  printed  in  Bethel  by  Charlie  Chapman,  twelve 
years  old. 


G.    W.    CHAPMAN.  $5 

Love  is  a  gem  of  priceless  worth, 
Unlike  the  joy  that's  fraught  with  glee ; 
Christ  by  its  power  was  brought  to  earth, 
I  by  its  power  Redemption  see. 
Awake,  my  soul,  aspire  above, 

Take  hold  of  heaven  by  faith  and  love. 

Kingdoms  and  nations  war  and  fight, 
I  see  them  wallow  in  their  blood ; 
My  soul  inquires,  Can  this  be  right  ? 
Be  right  to  'mar  the  work  of  God ! 
A  dismal  spectacle  of  wo, — 
Let  wars  and  fightings  ever  cease, 
Let  Christ  and  grace  subdue  the  foe, 
And  calm  the  angry  world  to  peace. 


ACROSTIC. 

ISRAEL    AND    BETSY    ADAMS. 

I  sigh  to  reach  my  destined  rest, 
Secured  by  grace  and  love  divine ; 
Redeemer,  Saviour  ever  blest, 
Admit  me  to  thyself,  with  mine : 
Eternal  love  inspires  my  plea, 
Love,  Jesus  love,  who  died  for  me, 


WRITINGS    OF 

Bright  angels  robed  in  innocence, 
Each  fired  with  zeal  and  winged  with  love, 
Take  pleasure  in  the  saint's  defence ; 
Saved  by  the  grace  of  Christ  above. 
Yea,  they  rejoice  in  Christ  the  Lamb, 
Eternal  safety  through  his  name. 

A  bleeding  Saviour  I  adore, 
Directed  by  his  cross  to  live ; 
All  that  I  need,  yea,  all,  and  more, 
More  my  Redeemer  has  to  give : 
Saved  by  his  all-abounding  grace, 
I  sigh  to  reach  my  destined  rest. 


ACROSTIC. 

EMMA    BARSTOW. 

Earth  is  to  me  a  tiresome  place, 
My  dear  Redeemer,  when  alone : 
May  I  enjoy  thy  sweet  embrace, 
And  pardoning  mercy  to  atone. 

Bright  as  the  blessed  morning  sun, 
And  peaceful  as  the  harmless  dove  ; 
Radiant  with  beauty  may  I  come, 
Set  as  a  gem  in  heavenly  love. 
'Tis  mine  to  bask  in  Jesus'  love, 
On  him  I  trust  myself,  my  all ; 
What  blest  assurance  from  above  ! 
One  thus  arrayed  can  never  fall. 


G.    W.    CHAPMAN.  67 

ACROSTIC. 

ELIZABETH    C.    JOHNSON,    PORTLAND.* 

Eternal  be  thy  mercy,  Lord ; 

Life  is  a  blank  without  thy  love : 

I  read  my  duty  in  thy  word : 

Zion's  best  treasure  is  above. 

Adieu,  sweet  light,  thou'st  fled  from  me, 

Bound  to  a  better  world,  I  fly ! 

E'en  where  its  inmates  all  can  see, 

To  where  no  inmates  e'er  will  die ! 

Heaven  is  that  long'd  for  happy  rest ; 

Christ's  righteousness  the  rich  bequest. 

Joy  is  a  precious,  christian  grace, 
On  earth  its  worth  can  ne'er  be  known, 
Heaven  is  its  rightful  dwelling  place ; 
Nor  is  it  perfect  there  alone. 
Salvation  laid  it  deep  with  grace ; 
Old  nature  trembles  at  the  sight, 
No  power  but  Christ's  can  give  it  place, 
Christ  and  his  cross  are  my  delight. 

Peace  be  to  you,  my  worthy  friend, 
O  may  it  like  a  river  be ! 
Rejoice  in  Christ,  on  him  depend, 
To  cheer  your  heart,  and  make  you  free. 
Live,  live  forever,  Madam,  you, 
And  may  you  never  suffer  pain, 
Nor  of  your  Saviour  lose  your  view : 
Death,  thus  disarm'd,  will  be  your  gain. 
♦This  lady  was  bliiid. 


WRITINGS    OF 
ACROSTIC. 

LAWSON    AND    LUCY    TWITCHELL. 

* 

Live,  live  forever,  noble  heart, 

And  live  for  Jesus  Christ  your  King  ; 

What  words  of  peace,  those  lines  impart, 

Salvation  through  his  name  they  bring  ! 

O  live  for  Jesus,  love  and  live  ! 

No  other  power  such  peace  can  give. 

Love  is  a  gem  of  priceless  worth, 
Unknown  to  hearts  of  hate  and  sin ; 
Christ  brought  the  treasure  down  to  earth  ; 
Yes,  Christ  is  grace  and  love  divine  ! 
Blest  lady,  make  this  treasure  thine. 

True  greatness  don't  consist  in  wealth, 
What'er  the  aspiring  rich  may  own  : 
It's  not  in  beauty,  size  nor  wealth  : 
'Tis  found  in  righteousness  alone. 
Christ  taught  the  inquiring  nobleman, 
How  he  might  find  it  sure,  and  live  ; 
Enrich  thine  heart  with  faith  and  love. 
Learn  how  to  pity, 
Learn  to  give. 


New  Christmas  comes  with  great  applause, 
And  numerous  gifts  by  Santa  Claus. 


G.    W.    CHAPMAN.  69 

ACROSTIC. 

MRS.    DELINDA    CHAPMAN. 

Music  's  thy  hobby,  dear, 
Rejoice  that  you  can  sing ; 
Sing,  lovely  sister,  sweet  and  clear 
The  blessed  farewell  hymn. 

Dear  sister,  must  we  part, 
E'en  here  no  more  to  meet? 
Love  tests  the  friendship  of  the  heart ; 
In  this,  is  ours  complete. 
Now  we'll  abide  by  this, 
Dear  sister,  though  we  part ; 
And  this  our  love,  sealed  with  a  kiss  — 
Test  our  united  heart. 

Charmed  with  our  Saviour's  love : 
Hope  is  our  anchor  sure, 
And  doth  a  firm  foundation  prove, 
Prepared  for  to  endure. 
More  blessed  those  who  meet, 
And  meet  no  more  to  part ; 
Near  to  the  blessed  mercy  seat, 
With  Jesus'  love  at  heart. 


Think  not  your  burdens  all  to  bear, 
For  Christ  will  bear  them  all  for  you. 
Pursue  your  course  by  faith  and  prayer, 
And  he  will  bear  you  safely  through. 


70  WRITINGS    OF 

ACROSTIC. 

THOMAS    SPENCER    WALKER. 

Thomas,  my  darling  boy,  is  gone ; 
He  was  my  love,  my  joy,  my  hope  ; 
O  who  can  hear  my  mournful  song, 
Mingling  my  tears  with  every  note  ; 
Amid  my  sorrows,  Lord  forgive, 
Say  peace,  be  still,  thy  darling  lives. 

Sing  now  of  joys  in  heaven  above, 
Peace  was  his  mantle  all  complete, 
Eternal  beauty  wrought  with  love, 
Now  safe  in  heaven  a  blest  retreat. 
Christ  ne'er  rejects  the  humble  poor, 
E'en  loyal  soldiers  he  forgives ; 
Rejoice  in  hope  his  cause  is  sure ; 
Say  live  forever,  Jesus  lives. 

Wipe  all  your  grief  and  tears  away, 
,  Angels  rejoice,  and  so  may  you  ; 
Light  as  a  bright  and  shining  day. 
Keep  near  to  Christ,  and  he  to  you, 
Earth  has  no  more  a  charm  for  him, 
Raised  to  those  joys,  and  freed  from  sin. 


E'en  now  receive  the  truth, 
While  in  your  blooming  youth  ; 
Lest  Christ  should  call  you  home, 
Before  your  work  is  done. 


G.    W.    CHAPMAN.  71 

A  MELANCHOLY  EVENT. 

Mr.  Isaac  Adams,  of  Gilead,  in  1803,  went  from  home 
on  a  visit,  and  left  his  family  in  the  care  of  Mr.  Joseph 
Blodget.  In  crossing  the  Androscoggin  river,  Mrs. 
Adams,  her  infant  son,  Miss  Lydia  Twitchell,  (her  sister,) 
Sarah  Bradley,  twelve  years  of  age,  and  Mr.  Blodget, 
were  capsized,  and  all  drowned,  but  Miss  Twitchell. 

THESE  LINES  WERE  COMPOSED   UPON  THAT    OCCASION  : 

His  wife,  his  bone  and  flesh  ; 

And  darling  son,  the  same, 
Received  arrest  by  death, 

Was  by  the  monster  slain. 

His  subjects,  man  and  maid  ; 

They  too,  with  them  went  down  ; 
The  king  of  terrors  there  displayed 

His  scepter  and  his  crown. 

But  Lydia  dodged  the  dart, 

Kind  providence  between ; 
Thus  like  a  kinsman,  true  at  heart, 

Reclaimed  her  from  the  stream. 


Oh  !  mother  laugh  your  merry  note  ; 

Be  gay  and  glad,  but  don't  forget 
From  baby's  eyes  looks  out  a  soul 

That  claims  a  home  in  Eden  yet. 

ETHEL  LYNN. 


72  WKITINGS    OF 

ACROSTIC. 

ALICE    G.    TWITCHELL. 

As  water  makes  the  body  clean, 

Love  doth  refine  and  cleanse  the  soul ; 

I  feel  conviction  work  within ; 

Christ's  blood  applied,  will  make  me  whole, 

Eternal  Spirit  all  divine, 

Grant  me  thy  grace  and  seal  me  thine. 

'Tis  not  by  works  of  righteousness, 

Which  we  can  do,  or  e'er  have  done  ; 
.  It's  by  the  Spirit  of  God's  grace, 

Through  Jesus  Christ,  his  only  Son. 

Christ  is  the  living  way; 

Heaven  is  the  longed-for  rest  above : 

Eternity,  bless'd,  endless  day; 

Life  fraught  with  glory, 

Light  and  love. 


ACROSTIC. 

EMILY    B.    CHAPMAN. 

Earth  with  its  pleasures  I  resign, 
May  I  possess  the  better  part ; 
In  Jesus  full  salvation  find, 
Love  to  correct  and  cheer  my  heart ; 
Yea,  may  my  faith  and  hope  in  thee, 

Be  like  its  author,  pure  and  free. 


G.    W.    CHAPM  AN.  73 

Cherish  these  virtues,  faith  and  love  ; 
Hope,  smiling,  joins  with  heart  and  hand, 
And  grace  commissioned  from  above  — 
Presumes  to  lead  in  sweet  command. 
Mansion  of  blessedness  around ! 
Adoring  seraphs  join  in  love  : 
No  more  can  one  with  these  go  down — 
Than  if  secure  in  heaven  above. 


ACROSTIC. 

FREDERIC    CHAPMAN. 

Frederic  fear  not  to  own  your  Lord, 
Rejoice  and  praise  his  blessed  name ; 
Eternal  truth  defends  his  word, 
Defend  his  cause,  nor  fear  the  shame. 
Earth's  flattering  charms  will  soon  depart, 
Rich  the  bequest  the  Saviour  gives  ; 
Inspired  with  faith  and  peace  at  heart, 
Christ  with  such  members  ever  lives. 

Cherish  the  precious  grace  of  love, 

Heaven  smiles  to  see  a  soul  renewed ; 

Angels  rejoice  with  those  above, 

Pleased  to  admit  and  welcome  you. 

Most  blessed  grace,  how  rich  and  free, 

Admire  the  Saviour  evermore  ; 

Now  sing  his  praise  who  died  for  thee, 

And  at  his  feet  his  name  adore. 
4 


74  WRITINGS    OF 

THE   GREAT  EASTERN.* 

Doctor,  I've  just  review'd  your  trip, — 
From  Alder  wharf,  to  Rumford  Ripps, 

And  back,  with  Sampson  for  your  guide, 
To  Berlin  Falls,  the  height  of  tide. 

But  what  of  this,  will  e'er  be  said, — 
Compared  with  mine  from  Holy  Head  ? 

Board  the  Great  Eastern,  on  her  race, 
With  forty  rods  of  deck  to  pace ! 

With  strength  and  grace  she  plumes  along, 
With  passengers  five  thousand  strong ; 

Grand  Dukes  and  Lords,  the  very  best, 
And  "Deacon  George"  among  the  rest ! 

She  cuts  her  way  with  strength  and  pride, 
All  lesser  crafts  with  ease  outrides  ; 

She  gains  the  city,  Portland  fair, 

Long  side  its  wharf,  and  anchors  there. 

Grand  engine,  boiler,  masts,  and  sails ; 

Grand  flag  inscribed,  "direct  from  Wales"  ! 
To  rouse  the  city,  taps  her  steam, 

And  mine,  as  yours,  was  all  a  dream ! 

*  Written  after  I  was  blind,  and  hearing  read  an  article 
in  the  Bethel  Courier,  by  Dr.  E.  N.  True,  describing  an 
imaginary  trip  in  a  visionary  steamer,  from  Alder  Wharf 
Bethel  to  Burnford  Bipps,  and  back  again,  up  the  river  to 
Berlin  Falls,  on  the  bosom  of  the  Androscoggin  river;  and 
his  assertion,  in  the  same  paper,  that  "Deacon  George" 
had  "  gone  to  Portland  to  see  the  Great  Eastern." 


G.    W.    CHAPMAN.  75 

ACROSTIC. 

MARY    ELIZABETH    R.    PEABODY. 

Mere  names  are  ciphers  when  alone, 
And  little  better  mis-applied  ; 
Round  yours  a  heavenly  luster  shone, 
Yours  was  in  heaven  ratified. 

Each  letter  set  in  gems  of  love, 
Lasting  as  marble  pillars  are  ; 
Inscribed  with  honors  from  above, 
Zion's  sure  hope  enveloped  there. 
All  radiant  as  the  rising  sun, 
Bright  beams  of  hope  with  luster  shone  ; 
E'en  peace  and  joy  anew  begun, 
Transported  by  a 
Hope  divine. 

Rejoice,  my  dear,  and  bless  the  Lord, 

Peace  be  your  mantle  day  by  day ; 
E'en  peace  and  joy  the  babe's  reward, 
Angels  to  guard  it  by  the  way. 
Beauty  in  every  feature  shines, 
Oh,  precious  gem !  its  worth  unknown  ; 
Dear  mother's  heart  around  it  twines, 
Yea,  father's  too,  nor  theirs  alone. 


76  WRITINGS    OF 

ACROSTIC. 

ELLEN    FRANCES    TRUE. 

Eternal  love  inspired  her  heart, 

Love  full  of  immortality, 

Love  that  will  ne'er  from  her  depart, 

E'en  here, 

Nor  in  Eternity. 

Free  grace  is  now  her  constant  theme, 
Redemption  by  her  Saviour's  blood ; 
Angels  with  joy  announce  her  name, 
New  born  with  Christ,  an  heir  of  God ; 
Christ  was  her  hope  and  confidence  — 
Each  passion  governed  by  his  grace ; 
Salvation  too,  her  sure  defence, 

Through  her  brief,  joyous,  heavenly  race. 

Transported  thus  did  sweetly  sing, 
Rejoicing  in  her  Saviour's  love, 
Upward  she  flew  on  angel's  wings, 
E'en  to  those  purer  joys  above. 


ACROSTIC. 

IDA    ANNA    IRISH. 

Ida,  that  happy,  darling  pet, 
Death  proudly  for  his  victim  took  ; 
Angels  with  joy  her  spirit  met 

While  mother's  heart  with  anguish  shook. 


G.   W.   CHAPMAN.  77 

Alas,  for  me  !  my  darling's  gone, 
No  more  to  soothe  my  aching  heart ; 
New  pleasures  mingle  with  her  song, 
As  oft  as  heaven  new  joys  impart. 

I  joy  her  history  to  relate, 

Rich  were  her  thoughts,  bedewed  with  love. 

Inspired  with  peace,  so  free,  so  great, 

She  soared  to 

Heaven's  pure  realms  above. 


ACROSTIC. 

MARGARET    PUTNAM. 

Margaret's  a  picture,  fair  and  bright, 
And  perfect  in  her  form  and  size, 
Right  as  a  book,  is  ever  right, 
Gain  her,  and  you  will  gain  a  prize. 
And  more,  a  feeling  heart  has  she, 
Rich  with  benevolence  and  love  ; 
E'en  to  the  poor  she's  kind  and  free, 
Trusting  the  promises  above. 

Peace  to  you,  my  worthy  friend, 
Unrivaled  peace,  with  joy  and  love  ; 
True  peace  and  joy  without  an  end ; 
New,  and  as  pure  as  their' s  above, 
A  perfect  peace,  a  gem  divine, 
Mixed  thus,  and  you  will  ever  shine. 


78  WRITINGS    OF 

ACROSTIC. 

CHARLIE    ADAMS. 

Charlie  was  called  away  to  rest ; 
Has  gone  to  be  in  heaven  above  ; 
And  what  in  charity  is  best, 
Resting  secure  in  Jesus'  love. 
Let  all  your  passions  now  be  hushed, 
In  sweet  submission  live  and  sing ; 
E'en  all  you  have  to  Jesus  trust, 
And  so  prepare  to  follow  him. 

And  so  you've  laid  him  down  in  love, 
Deep  in  the  dust  to  slumber  there  ; 
And  yet  his  spirit  shines  above, 
More  beautiful  than  angels  are  ; 
Shines  as  the  early  morning  star. 


ACROSTIC. 

BROWN    THURSTON. 

Beauty  and  goodness,  both  combined, 
Religion  takes  its  proper  place ; 
Obedient  to  his  lot  resigned  ; 
Wisdom  appears,  with  smiling  face, 
Nature  unites  to  join  with  grace. 


G.    W.    CHAPMAN.  79 

True  faith  inspires  the  heart  with  love  ; 
Hope  lives  upon  their  fruits  alone  ; 
Upward  they  soar  to  joys  above, 
Rising  in  triumph  near  the  throne. 
Salvation,  O,  the  joyful  sound ! 
Treasures  of  grace  to  such  are  given ; 
O  precious  joys  to  such  abound ; 
Nature  subdued,  at  peace  with  Heaven. 


ACROSTIC. 

EMMA    BAKER. 

Emma,  would  you  a  seraph  be  ; 

Mount  up  to  purer  joys  above  ? 

Measure  the  space  by  wing,  and  fly, 

All  flushed  with  joy  and  fraught  with  love  ? 

Be  like  a  seraph,  Emma,  be, 
And  with  a  heart  of  love  within, 
Keep  near  to  Christ,  he  died  for  thee, 
E'en  died  to  save  your  soul  from  sin  ; 
Remember,  Jesus  died  for  thee, 
And  ever  like  him  strive  to  be. 

And  when  your  mortal  parts  shall  die, 
Your  soul  will  like  a  seraph  fly, 

Away  to  Jesus,  high  above, 

The  source  of  happiness  and  love, 


80  WRITINGS    OF 

LINES 

Written  by  E.  N.  True,  after  listening  to  the  sermon  of  Rev 
J.  B.  Wheelwright  at  the  funeral  of  Mrs.  Hannah  P.  B.  Chap- 
man, who  died  in  Bethel,  April  18, 1863,  aged  75  years. 

Servant  of  God,  well  done ! 

Thy  sainted  form  lies  low  ; 
Thine  earthly  race  now  run  ; 

O'ercome  thine  only  foe. 

Where  is  thy  home  ?     Sit'st  thou 

With  sainted  forms  above  ? 
In  shining  robes  dost  bow, 

Or  bathe  in  fount  of  love  ? 

How  near  the  Throne  thy  seat, 

Where  thy  bless'd  Saviour  reigns  ? 

Canst  thou  draw  near  his  feet, 
Or  roam  celestial  plains  ? 

Hast  thou  a  starry  crowm  ? 

Has  youth  bedecked  thy  brow  ? 
Does  heavenly  music  drown 

Ethereal  senses  now  ? 

See'st  thou  the  saints  of  old, 
Who  pilgrims  earth  have  trod, 

Now  in  the  shepherd's  fold, 
The  bosom  of  their  God  ? 

Methinks  I  hear  thee  say 

In  whisperings  unto  me, 
"  Here  is  perpetual  day, — 

Here  Heavenly  harmonv ! 


G.    W.    CHAPMAN.  81 

Thy  blunted  senses  now 

Cannot  well  comprehend : 
In  sweet  submission  bow ; 

God  will  his  angel  send, — 

To  bring  thee  to  thy  home, 

To  thine  eternal  rest ; 
We'll  there  together  roam 

O'er  regions  of  the  blest. 

No  blindness  there,  nor  dark 

The  prison-house  of  the  soul ; 
Christ  prints  on  his,  his  mark ; 

He  makes  the  blind  one  whole. 

Christ  waits  for  thee  to  come, 

Yet  he  would  have  thee  stay, 
To  aid  some  pilgrim  home, 

Who  loiters  by  the  way." 

These  silent  answers  come 

From  the  far-off  spirit  land, 
To  draw  me  to  my  home, 

And  join  the  glorious  band. 

Oh  glorious  thought  to  know, 

If  earthly  joys  are  riven, 
God  can  his  grace  bestow, 

And  take  us  home  to  Heaven. 

4* 


82  WRITINGS    OF 

ACROSTIC. 

LAURA    A.    CHAPMAN. 

Love,  Laura,  darling,  live  and  love, 
And  like  the  blessed  Jesus  be  ; 
Under  the  shining  guards  above, 
Rest,  and  like  him,  be  safe  and  free  ; 
A  darling  here,  beloved  and  fair, 

An  angel  crowned  with  glory  there. 

Christ  was  an  infant  once  on  earth, 
His  birth-place  was  a  manger  too  ; 
Angels  with  joy  announced  his  birth, 
Praising  and  shouting  as  they  flew. 
May  angels  guard  thee,  Laura,  safe 
Against  the  ravages  of  time  ; 
New  pleasures  mixed  with  early  faith, 
In  the  best  robe  forever  shine. 


ACROSTIC. 

ELIZA    CHAPMAN. 


Earth  is  to  me  a  tiresome  place ; 

Life,  like  a  shooting  meteor,  flies  ; 

In  heaven  I  hope  to  end  my  race, 

Zionmyjoy, 

And  grace  my  prize. 


G.    W.    CHAPMAN.  83 

Charmed  with  my  Saviour's  dying  love, 
His  mighty  power,  his  precious  name, 
Angels  rejoice  with  those  above, 
Pleased  to  admit  the  sinners  claim. 
Most  blessed  Saviour,  thou  art  mine, 
And  I  am  thine  forever  more ; 
Now  like  an  angel  may  I  shine, 
And  thou  my  Saviour  I'll  adore. 


ACROSTIC. 


MARIA    D.    TILDEN. 


Maria  is  fraught  with  faith  and  love, 
And  quiet  as  a  lamb  is  she  ; 
Rather  would  join  with  those  above, 
In  songs  of  immortality  ; 
And  so  you  are  bound  to  joys  above, 

Dressed  in  a  robe  of  Jesus'  love. 

True  faith  will  lead  to  God,  in  prayer, 
In  all  your  trials  share  a  part ; 
Love,  too,  will  in  your  sorrows  share  ; 
Dressed  in  a  robe  of  peace,  at  heart, 
E'en  all  those  graces  thus  applied, 
New  strength  you'll  gain  if  sanctified. 


84  WRITINGS    OF 

ACROSTIC. 

ABRAHAM    LINCOLN. 

In  memory  of  the  President,  deceased. 

Abraham,  our  leader,  now  is  dead, 
Breathless  he  lies  beneath  the  sod ; 
Rebellion  shot  him  down,  and  fled, 
Assured  will  meet  the  frown  of  God. 
Heaven  smiled  to  see  the  hero  come, 
Angels  rejoiced  to  meet  him  there ; 
Mean  Booth  has  fled  to  meet  his  doom 
Of  horror,  darkness,  and  despair. 

Lincoln  will  wear  a  starry  crown, 
In  robes  of  white  will  ever  shine. 
No  more  can  rebels  cast  him  down  ; 
Clasped  in  the  arms  of  love  divine, 
O  glorious  leader,  how  sublime  ; 
Loud  round  the  world  his  name  will  ring ; 
Now  he  with  Christ  will  ever  shine ; 
While  Booth  is  doomed  to  death  for  sin. 


ACROSTIC. 

ELLA    CORNELIA    ADAMS. 

Ella  was  called  away  in  haste, 
Love  took  her  to  a  higher  seat, — 
Love  for  the  darling  found  a  place ; 
A  place  where  saints  and  angels  meet. 


G.    W.    CHAPMAN.  85 

Cornelia  shines  in  heaven  above, 
O  precious  thought,  will  ever  shine, 
Resting  secure  in  Jesus'  love. 
New  joys  and  pleasures  all  divine ; 
Eternal  beauty  decks  her  crown, 
Love  kindles  to  a  heavenly  flame  ; 
In  robes  of  peace  she  doth  abound, 
A  glorious  victory  she's  attained. 

A  placid  sweetness  marked  her  name ; 
Death  smote  her  with  his  fatal  dart, 
Angels  to  meet  her  spirit  came, 
Mingling  their  joys  to  aid  her  heart, 
Safe  to  their  rest,  no  more  to  part. 


OLD  TIMES. 

11  We  piled  with  care  our  nightly  stack 

Of  wood  against  the  chimney  back, 

And  filled  between  with  curious  art 

The  ragged  brush  ;  then  hovering  near 

We  watched  the  first  red  blaze  appear, 

Heard  the  sharp  crackle,  caught  the  gleam 

On  whitewashed  wall  and  sagging  beam, 

Until  the  old  rude-furnished  room 

Burst,  flower-like,  into  rosy  bloom."  whittiek. 


86  WRITINGS    OF 

ACROSTIC. 

KATE    INGALS    BARKER. 

Keep  close  to  Jesus,  lady  fair, 

And  be  not  rifled  of  your  hope ; 

True  faith  is  strengthened  much  by  prayer 

Eternal  love  be  thy  support. 

In  this  attire  and  heavenly  dress, 
Ne'er  walk  in  darkness,  doubt  or  fear ; 
Give  Christ  your  heart,  your  sins  confe  ss, 
And  chant  his  love  in  accents  clear ; 
Language  too  feeble  to  express 
Salvation  thus  vouchsafed  by  grace. 

Blest  change,  from  rebel  to  an  heir, 
And  darkness  felt,  to  light  and  love  ; 
Rejoice,  with  angels  you  may  share, 
Kept  by  the  power  of  Christ  above. 
Eternal  love  doth  thus  abound, 
Radiant  with  grace,  and  glory  crowned. 


ACROSTIC. 

ALICE    G.    CHAPMAN. 

Alice,  attend,  the  Saviour  speaks, 
Listen,  and  come  without  delay, 
In  meek  submission  at  his  feet ; 
Claim  his  sweet  promise  while  you  may. 
E'en  now 


G.    W.   CHAPMAN.  87 

Gird  on  your  Christian  panoply, 

Cast  all  your  unbelief  away ; 
Heaven  is  the  gift  he  offers  you, 
And  will  you  have  it,  darling,  say  ? 
Peace  is  the  path  you  must  pursue  ; 
Mount  on  the  wings  of  faith  and  love, 
And  soar  to  reach  the  heavenly  prize  ; 
No  fear  since  Christ  your  course  approves, 
And  angels  joy  to  see  you  rise. 


ACROSTIC. 

LUTHER    CHAPMAN. 

Love,  Luther,  and  be  ever  free  ; 
Up  to  the  Lord  direct  your  prayer, 
Trust  him  who  gave  his  life  for  thee  ; 
He'll  keep  you  with  a  father's  care. 
Eternal  power  to  him  belongs, 
Rejoice  and  praise  him  in  your  song. 

Christ  ever  lives  to  intercede, 
He's  ever  on  the  mercy  seat ; 
Ask  him  thy  precious  cause  to  plead. 
Peace  will  the  claims  of  justice  meet, 
Mingle  thy  plea  with  faith  in  prayer ; 
Admit  the  Saviour's  just  command ; 
No  more  of  Jesus'  love  despair,  he'll 
Hold  you  with  his  mighty  hand. 


88  WRITINGS    OF 

ACROSTIC. 

MRS.    MARY    BRADBURY. 

Mild  as  the  summer  air, 
Rich  as  the  balmy  dew, 
Safe  here  and  everywhere, 
If  Christ  he  formed  in  you. 

May  all  your  fears  depart, 
And  peace  with  you  abound  ; 
Religion  true  at  heart, 
Yea,  joy  with  glory  crowned. 

Bright  as  the  rising  sun, 
Rich  as  the  balmy  dew, 
And  clear  as  shining  noon, 
Dressed  in  its  finest  hue  ; 
Beauty,  inwrought  with  love, 
Unrivaled  peace  within ; 
Rejoice  with  those  above, 
Yea,  sweet  hosanna  sing. 


"  No,  the  heart  that  has  early  loved  never  forgets, 

But  as  truly  loves  on  to  the  close, 
As  the  sunflower  turns  on  her  god,  when  he  sets 

The  same  look  which  she  turned  when  he  rose." 

MOORE. 


G.    W.    CHAPMAN. 
ACROSTIC. 

MARY    BAKER. 

Mary  you've  got  a  blessed  name, 
And  ever  blessed  may  you  be  ; 
Read  how  of  Mary  Jesus  came, 
Yea,  came  and  died  for  such  as  we. 

Blessings  through  him,  to  you  abound, 

And  peace  akin  to  that  above ; 

Keep  close  to  Christ,  and  heir  the  crown, 

E'en  that  of 

Righteousness  and  love. 


ACROSTIC. 

EDDIE    BAKER. 

Eddie  is  a  very  lovely  boy ; 
Do  see  him  with  his  big  boquet, 
Decked  with  a  blush  of  real  joy. 
I  picked  it  sir,  for  you  to-day ; 
E'en  picked  it  sir ;  do  hear  him  say. 

Beautiful  are  flowers  when  thus  boque'd, 

And  yet  more  beautiful  was  he. 

Kings  with  their  crowns  may  droop  and  fade ; 

Eddie  be  happy, 

Rich  and  free. 


90  WRITINGS    OF 

ACROSTIC. 

MILTON    CHAPMAN    WALKER. 

Milton,  my  friend,  at  your  request, 
I've  placed  your  name  in  'crostic  form. 
Love,  of  the  graces  called  the  best, 
Truth,  near  allied,  with  peace  adorned  ; 
O  precious  graces,  all  divine, 
Now  thus  arrayed  you'll  ever  shine. 

Cherish  the  precious  grace  of  love, 
Heaven  smiles  to  see  a  soul  renewed  ; 
Angels  rejoice  with  those  above, 
Pleased  to  admit  and  welcome  you. 
Most  precious  grace,  how  rich,  how  free, 
Admire  the  Saviour  ever  more  ; 
Now  sing  his  praise  who  died  for  thee, 
And  at  his  feet  his  name  adore. 

Wisdom  directs  to  love  the  Lord, 
And  thus  to  give  the  heart  to  him  ; 
Love  there  will  find  a  sure  reward ; 
Kept  by  the  power  of  Christ  from  sin. 
E'en  Milton  C,  will  there  be  safe, 
Risking  his  all  with  Christ  by  faith. 


Jan.  17, 1867. 

A  driving  storm  as  e'er  was  told, 
Of  snow  and  wind,  and  mighty  cold. 


G.     W.     CHAPMAN.  91 

LOVE   TO   CHRISTIANS. 

The  church,  I  laud  and  love, 

I  love  its  noble  sons  ; 
Its  daughters,  peaceful  as  a  dove, 

And  fair  as  polished  stones. 

I  love  the  place  and  spot 

Where  they  were  born  and  bred  ; 

Aye,  more,  I  love  the  silent  lot 

Where  rests  their  slumbering  dead. 

I  read  their  names  with  care, 

Then  turn  away  to  weep, 
And  mark  the  spot  with  tears  in  prayer, 

Where  I  must  shortly  sleep. 

Those  spirits  now  at  rest, 

With  angels  join  to  sing ; 
Clad  in  their  Saviour's  righteousness, 

Will  Jesus  with  him  bring. 

Then  speed  ye  cars  of  time, 

And  waft  me  sooner  home, 
That  I  with  angels  too  may  join, 

With  Jesus  too  may  come. 


92  WRITINGS    OF 

INQUIRING 

INTO    THE    EVIDENCES    OF    MY    HOPE    IN    CHRIST. 

And  now  my  soul  how  stands  the  case 
With  you  and  with  your  God  ? 

Are  you  renewed  by  saving  grace, 
And  washed  in  Jesus'  blood  ? 

If  not,  how  can  you  e'er  expect 

Your  wife  to  meet  again, 
And  range  with  her  the  golden  streets 

Of  New  Jerusalem. 

With  trembling  heart  and  solemn  word, 

I  think  my  hope  is  good ; 
I  take  my  counsel  from  the  Lord, 

My  cleansing  from  his  blood. 

My  only  hope  is  in  his  death, 

It's  my  righteousness,  and  peace, 

'Tis  this  inspires  the  prayer  of  faith, 
And  plea  for  saving  grace. 

'Tis  this  directs  my  erring  feet, 

In  the  straight  narrow  way, 
And  points  me  upward  to  the  seat 

Of  everlasting  day. 

When  1  the  King  of  terrors  meet, 

And  must  resign  my  breath, 
May  I  be  found  at  Jesus'  feet, 

The  antedote  of  death. 


G.    W.    CHAPMAN.  93 

Then  the  conflict  will  be  o'er, 

The  victory  will  be  won, 
And  I  be  wafted  to  the  shore 

Of  New  Jerusalem. 

There  again  to  meet  my  wife, 

With  all  the  host  above  ; 
And  there  forever  dwell  with  Christ, 

The  center  of  my  love. 


ACROSTIC. 

LUCY    WINSLOW. 

Let  mercy  be  my  constant  plea, 
Upward  my  prayer  of  faith  arise  ; 
Christ  will  in  mercy  answer  me, 
Yea,  will  accept  the  sacrifice. 

Wisdom  comes  robed  in  heavenly  light, 
Inspired  with  mercy  from  above  ; 
Nature  subdued,  arrayed  in  white, 
Safe  in  the  arms  of  faith  and  love. 
Lord,  how  I  love  thy  precious  name  ; 
O  may  I  in  it  now  rejoice ! 
With  angel's  love,  and  angel's  strain, 
With  angel's  zeal,  and  angel's  joy. 


94  WRITINGS    OF 

ACROSTIC. 

AMANDA  CHAPMAN  THURSTON. 

Amanda  lives  by  faith  and  love — 
Measures  her  strength  by  these  alone, 
And  hopes  to  join  with  those  above, 
Near  to  her  Saviour,  on  his  throne. 
Dearest  Amanda,  live  and  love, 
And  thus  aspire  to  joys  above. 

Christ's  love  is  ever  sure, 
His  name  is  Jesus,  too  ; 
As  is  his  love,  his  power 
Pleads  with  his  God  for  you. 
May  you  his  love  confess, 
.   And  live  upon  his  word, 
Nor  e'er  resist  his  grace, 
But  own  him  as  your  Lord. 

Trials  beset  her  weary  path, 
Her  hope  is  in  the  Lord  alone  ; 
Upward  she  turns  the  eye  of  faith, 
Reaching  for  mercy  from  his  throne. 
Salvation  cheers  her  trembling  heart, 
Truth  sings  for  joy  where  grace  is  given  ; 
O  blessed  Spirit,  ne'er  depart. 
Nor  leave  till  I'm  prepared  for  heaven. 


"  Charms  may  wither,  but  feelino;  shall  last : 

All  the  shadow  that  e'er  shall  fall  o'er  thee, 
Love's  light  summer-cloud  sweetlv  shall  cast.' 


G.    W.    CHAPMAN.  95 

ACROSTIC. 

MARY    ANN    M.    HUNTINGTON. 

My  soul,  rejoice  that  Jesus  met 
A  mighty  foe,  and  conquered  him ! 
Redeemer,  thou  hast  paid  my  debt, 
You've  ransomed  sinful,  dying  man. 

A  dying  sinner  I  am  found, 
No  other  power  can  reach  my  case ! 
No  other  heal  my  deadly  wound, 
But  thy  redeeming,  saving  grace  ! 

Most  blessed  sure,  forever  blest, 

Heaven  is  secure,  and  I  rejoice  ; 
Upward  I  soar  to  reach  my  rest, 
No  more  indulge  in  sin  from  choice. 
Trifles  no  more  disturb  my  peace, 
I  cast  my  care  on  Jesus'  arm ; 
New  strength  derived,  inspired  with  peace, 
Grace  holds  me  with  a  sovereign  charm ; 
Transported  thus  with  joy  I  sing, 
On  seraph's  pinions,  fired  with  love, 
No  more  deterred  by  earthly  things, 
I  soar  to  purer  joys  above. 


Let  mutual  joys  our  mutual  trust  combine, 
And  love,  and  love-born  confidence  be  thine. 


96  WRITINGS    OF 

ACROSTIC. 

PAULINA    E.    PHILBR00K. 

Pleasure  and  peace  be  yours,  my  friend, 
And  may  it  like  a  river  be  ; 
Unrivaled  peace  without  an  end : 
Life  long  with  joy  and  victory. 
In  this  apparel,  pure  and  white, 
No  more  indulge  in  doubt  and  fear ; 
Accept  the  costume  with  delight ; 

E'en  like  a  loving  child  appear. 

Press  on,  my  dear,  with  all  your  heart, 
Heaven  smiles  to  see  the  work  go  on ; 
In  righteousness  perforin  your  part. 
Love  enters  with,  and  lo  !  I  come, 
Beauty  appears  with  smiling  face, 
Right  in  its  features,  form,  and  size ; 
Old  nature  driven  from  the  place, 
Out-cast,  rejected,  and  despised, 
Kept  down,  no  more  at  all  to  rise. 


EPITAPH, 

FOR    THE    TOMB    OF    MRS.    CLARA    R.    SMITH. 

Shines  now  with  those  above, 
Mingling  her  joys  with  theirs  ; 
Inspired  with  Jesus'  love, 
The  fruit  of  all 
Her  prayers. 


G.     W.     CHAPMAN.  97 

ACROSTIC. 

OILMAN    AND    MARYANN    B.    CHAPMAN. 

Give  me  the  faith  of  joys  to  come, 
In  answer  to  my  hope  and  prayer ; 
Leave  not  thy  servant  here  alone  ; 
May  I  in  thy  salvation  share  ; 
Admit  me  to  thy  favor,  Lord, 
Nor  hide  thy  face,  nor  seal  thy  word. 

Mercy  and  truth  are  surely  met, 
And  kissed  each  other  there  and  then ; 
Redeemer,  thou  hast  paid  my  debt, 
You  have  ransomed  guilty,  dying  man. 
A  dying  sinner  I  am  found, 
No  other  power  can  reach  my  case, 
No  other  heal  my  deadly  wounds, 

But  thy  redeeming,  saving  grace. 

Charmed  with  my  Saviour's  dying  love, 
Hope  has  become  my  anchor  sure, 
And  does  my  firm  foundation  prove, 
Prepared  forever  to  endure. 
Misers  may  boast  their  thousands  told, 
And  in  their  treasures  equal  share  ; 
No  silver  shrines,  nor  shining  gold 
With  my  Redeemer  can  compare * 
5 


US  WHITINGS    OF 

KING  ALCOHOL. 

Beware!  beloved  youth,  beware! 

The  tempter's  near  to  spread  bis  snare; 

Despotic  in  his  will  and  power, 

He  first  ensnares,  and  then  devours. 

He's  roaming  round  in  search  of  prey, 
And  find  his  victims  as  lie  may ; 

lie  haits  them  first,  then  coils  them  in, 

To  feel  his  deadly  bite  and  sting. 

He's  black  with  crime,  and  deal'  to  tear, 
And  at  remonstrance,  mocks  and  sneers; 
The  torpid  state  he'll  soon  bring  on, 
The  wail  of  death,  to  end  the  song. 

Beware!  beloved  youth,  beware! 
And  shun  the  tempter's  dreadful  snare 

The  glass  of  ale,  and  cider  too, 

Or  he'll  ensnare  and  ruin  yon. 


ACROSTIC. 

Miss    \r.r.Y   THATCHER. 
May  I  be  wafted  to  the  skies, 
In  love's  sweet  lap  exulting  rise  ; 
Sing  love,  O  sing,  to  speed  my  flight, 
Sale  to  that  happy  world  of  light. 


G.    W.    OHA  PM  AN.  99 

And  what,  my  dear,  inspires  you  so  ; 
Beauty  seems  pregnant  sure  with  love. 
Beauty  may  from  a  chrysalis  grow  ; 
\  ea,  rise  to  purer  joys  above. 

Truth  claims  to  hold  its  empire  there  ; 
Hope  bounds  with  'lastic  step  to  rise, 
And  these,  be  sure,  will  locate  where 
To  test  their  heavenly  enterprise. 
Christ's  sweet  attraction  holds  the  heart ; 
Heaven  filled  with  rapture  at  the  sight. 
E'en  you,  my  dear,  will  share  your  part, 
Radiant  in  robes  of  spotless  white. 


ACROSTIC. 

CHARLIE    SHED. 

Charlie  is  called  away  to  rest ; 
Has  gone  to  rest  in  heaven  above, 
And  what  of  all,  in  truth,  is  best, 
Resting  secure  in  Jesus'  love. 
Let  all  your  passions  now  be  hushed, 
In  sweet  submission  live  and  sing, 
E'en  we  must  all  return  to  dust, 
In  swift  succession  follow  him. 

Salvation  he  has  early  found, 
Heaven  is  his  blessed  home  above, 
Eternal  beauty  decks  his  crown. 
Dressed  in  a  robe  of  Jesus'  love. 


100  WHITINGS    OF 

ACROSTIC. 

FANNY   FRISBEE. 

Faith  is  an  element  of  love, 
And  love  a  jewel  decked  with  grace  ; 
New  joys  akin  to  those  above, 
New  strength  to  run  the  Christian  race. 
Yea,  darling,  these  may  all  be  thine, 
If  you,  vour  all  to  Christ  resign. 

Fear  not,  as  Christ  and  you  are  one  ; 
Redemption  by  his  precious  blood ; 
In  him  you  are  safe,  in  him  alone, 
Sealed  by  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord. 
Bless'd  joys  !  akin  to  those  above  ! 
Increasing  as  your  minutes  glide, 
Eternal  as  your  Saviour's  love, — 
All  yours,  if  you  in  him  confide. 


ACROSTIC. 

ELIZABETH    WHITMAN. 

E.,  tell  me  what  your  hope  can  be  ? 

Love  answers  thus,  "  I  hope  for  heaven  : 

I  hope  my  Saviour  thus  to  see, 

Zion's  reward  to  me  be  given." 

A  blessed  hope  !  more  pure  than  gold. 

Beauty,  comprising  faith  and  love, 

E'en  half  its  worth  can  ne'er  be  told, 

Tested  by 

Heaven's  full  choir  above. 


G.    W.    CHAPMAN.  101 

Wisdom  comes  breaking  forth  with  light, 
Heaven  beams  with  mercy  in  its  eye ! 
I  wait  the  signal  for  my  flight, 
To  that  bless'd  world  above  the  sky. 
Must  I  be  checked  and  linger  here  ? 
A  humble  pilgrim,  fraught  with  love  ? 
Nay,  Saviour,  to  my  aid  appear, 
And  tune  my  harp  for  songs  above. 


ACROSTIC. 

EMMA    CLOUGH. 

Emma,  would  you  a  seraph  be  ? 
Mount  up  to  purer  joys  above  ; 
Measure  the  space  by  wing,  and  fly, 
All  flushed  with  joy  and  fraught  with  love. 

Come  then  to  Christ  without  delay, 
Live  in  his  fear  and  love  his  name ; 
Obtain  forgiveness  while  you  may  ; 
Under  his  banner  live  and  reign. 
God  grant  you  pardon  for  the  past ; 
Heaven  be  your  happy  home  at  last. 


Hail,  Son  of  God,  Saviour  of  Men !  thy  name 
Shall  be  the  copious  matter  of  my  song." 


1 1  count  myself  in  nothing  else  so  happy 

As  in  my  soul  remembering  my  good  friends. 

5* 


102  wniTi  N<;s  or 

ACROSTIC. 

OLIVE    DINSDALE    SHED. 

0  !  blessed  Saviour,  spare  my  child, 
Let  not  thy  chastening  break  my  heart, 

1  would  with  all  be  reconciled, 
Vast  as  my  grief  with  thee  to  part. 
E'en  bide  this  cruel  dart. 

Dear  Saviour  !  thou  art  all  divine, 
I  give  my  darling  up  to  thee, 
No  more  presume  to  call  it  mine  ; 
Salvation,  O  !  salvation's  free. 
Dearest  of  all,  we  now  must  part, 
And  part  to  meet  no  more  below, 
Love  binds  thee  to  my  bleeding  heart, 
E'en  now  'tis  hard  to  let  thee  go. 

She's  gone,  her  angel  spirit's  gone, 
Heaven  smiles  to  meet  her  angel  guest. 
Eternal  love  inspires  her  song, 
Dressed  in  her  Saviour's  righteousness. 


ACROSTIC. 

ELLA  CLOUGH. 

Ella's  a  lady,  fair,  and  bright, 
Lovely  in  features,  form,  and  size, 
Living  in  fashion,  wrong  or  right, 
A  lady,  more,  a  living  prize. 


(r.    W.    C  H  A  PMA  N.  lo-i 

Cheerful  and  happy  as  the  lark. 
Light  beams  with  beauty  in  her  eyes, 
O  see  her  stretch  to  make  her  mark ; 
Upward  she  tends,  will  upward  rise, 
Great  in  her  gift  of  sacred  song  ; 
Her  peace  be  great,  her  life  be  long. 


ACROSTIC. 

HELLEN    ADELAIDE    TORREY. 

Hail !  dearest  daughter,  far  away, 

Each  day  is  numbered  as  it  flies. 

Love  whispers, — dear,  cut  short  thy  stay ; 

Love,  louder  for  thy  safety  sighs, 

Each  thought  of  thee  is  fraught  with  love, 

No  less  than  when  at  home,  my  dove. 

Angels  are  beautiful,  and  fair, 
Dressed  in  sweet  innocence  and  love, 
E'en  you  may  of  their  beauty  share, 
Like  them  inspired  with  joys  above  ; 
And  you  amid  the  heavenly  throng, 
In  Jesus'  righteousness  will  shine  ; 
Death,  where's  thy  sting!"  will  be  your  song- 
Each  moment  filled  with  love  divine  ! 

Thrice  happy  you,  my  darling  girl  ; 
O  !  precious  joys  of  heaven  begun  ! 
Richer  than  diamonds  set  in  pearl, 
Radiant  as  in  the  noon-day  sun, 
Eternal  beauty  in  thy  face  ; 
Yea  more,  in  Jesus  saved  by  grace. 


104  W  JM  TI  N<JS    OF 

ACROSTIC. 

A.URELIUS    ASIJUry   ROBERTSON. 

Alas,  for  ine,  my  hero's  gone  ; 
Upward  he's  fled  above  the  sky. 
Rich  were  the  laurels  he  has  won  ; 
E'en  those  for  which  he  bled  and  died 
Love  for  his  country  nerved  his  arm  ; 
Inspired  his  heart  with  glory  too. 
Up  to  his  post,  fixed  to  a  charm, 
Shouting  the  battle-cry  anew. 

Angels  are  wooing  him  away, 
Singing  the  chant  of  welcome  home. 
Bright  as  the  rising  sun  arc  they, 
Upward  he  tends,  has  upward  flown  ; 
Resting  secure  in  heaven  above, 
Yea,  basking  in  his  Saviour's  love. 

Riches  do  now  with  him  abound  : 
O  precious  fruits  of  grace  divine. 
'Beauty  is  mingled  with  his  crown, 
E'en  now,  and  will  forever  shine. 
Rest,  dearest,  in  thy  Saviour's  love  ; 
Thrice  happy  you,  my  darling  son. 
Salvation,  peace,  and  joy  above. 
Only  is  found  in  Christ  alone  ; 
New,  and  ever  near  the  throne. 


G.    W.    CHAPMAK.  105 

ACROSTIC. 

ENHANCES   TWITCHELL. 

Fair  as  tlie  blushing  rose, 

Hare  as  the  honey  clew, 

And  sweet  as  lily  blows, 

Nor  do  these  vie  with  you. 

Chaste  as  a  maiden  pure, 

E'en  these  with  beauty  blend, 

Salvation  ever  sure,  to  such  a  peaceful  end. 

Trifles  no  more  disturb  your  peace, 
Wisdom  arrayed  in  robes  of  white  ; 
Inspired  with  joy  and  decked  with  grace, 
Truth,  hand  in  hand,  with  pure  delight. 
Christ  now  with  you  is  all  in  all, 
Heaven,  filled  with  joy,  at  your  command, 
Eternal  power  prevents  your  fall ; 
Love  holds  you  with  her  mighty  hand, 
Light,  your  conductor  through  the  land. 


Here  on  thy  altar,  Lord,  I  lay 

My  soul,  my  life,  my  all ; 
To  follow  where  thou  lead'st  the  way, 

To  obev  thv  every  call." 


100  WRITINGS    OF 

A    POEM: 

RECITED    BY    PRESIDENT    LINCOLN. 

Mr.  F.  B.  Carpenter  says,  "the  circumstances  under 
which  this  copy  was  written  are  these:  I  was  with  the 
President  alone  one  evening  in  his  room,  during  the  time 
I  was  painting  my  large  picture  at  the  White  House.  He 
presently  threw  aside  his  pen  and  papers,  and  began  to 
talk  to  me  of  Shakspeare.  He  sent  little  "Tad,1'  his  son, 
to  the  library  to  bring  a  copy  of  the  plays,  and  then  read 
to  me  several  of  his  favorite  passages,  showing  genuine 
appreciation  of  the  great  poet.  Relapsing  into  a  sadder 
strain,  he  laid  the  book  aside,  and,  leaning  back  into  his 
chair,  said: 

"  There  is  a  poem,  which  has  been  a  great  favorite  with 
me  for  years,  which  was  first  shown  to  me  when  a  young 
man,  by  a  friend,  and  which  I  afterwards  saw  and  cut  from 
a  newspaper,  and  learned  by  heart.  I  would,  he  contin- 
ued, give  a  great  deal  to  know  who  wrote  it,  but  1  have 
never  been  able  to  ascertain." 

"Then  half  closing  his  eyes  he  repeated  to  me  the  lines 
which  I  enclose  to  3^ou.  Greatly  pleased  and  interested, 
I  told  him  I  would  like,  if  ever  an  opportunity  occurred, 
to  write  them  down  from  his  lips.  He  said  he  would  some- 
time try  to  give  them  to  me.  A  few  days  afterwards  he 
asked  me  to  accompany  him  to  the  temporary  studio  of  Mr. 
Swayne,  the  sculptor,  who  was  making  a  bust  of  him  at 
the  Treasury  Department.  While  he  was  sitting  for  the 
bust,  I  was  suddenly  reminded  of  the  poem,  and  said  to 
him  that  then  would  be  a  good  time  to  dictate  it  to  me. 
He  complied,  and  sitting  upon  some  books  at  his  feet,  as 
nearly  as  1  can  remember,  I  wrote  the  lines  down,  one  by 
one,  from  his  lips." 


G.    W.    CHAPMAN.  107 

"  0  why  should  the  Spirit  of  Mortal  be  Proud." 

O  why  should  the  spirit  of  mortal  be  proud  ? 
Like  a  swift,  fleeting  meteor,  a  fast-flying  cloud, 
A  flash  of  the  lightning,  a  break  of  the  wave, 
He  passeth  from  life  to  rest  in  the  grave. 

The  leaves  of  the  oak  and  the  willow  shall  fade, 
Be  scattered  around  and  together  be  laid, 
And  the  young  and  the  old,  and  the  low  and  the  high 
Shall  moulder  to  dust,  and  together  shall  lie. 

The  infant  and  mother  attended  and  loved ; 
The  mother  that  infant's  affection  who  proved ; 
The  husband  that  mother  and  infant  who  blessed, 
Each,  all,  are  away  to  their  dwellings  of  rest. 

The  hand  of  the  king  that  the  scepter  hath  borne  ; 
The  brow  of  the  priest  that  the  mitre  hath  worn ; 
The  eye  of  the  sage,  and  the  heart  of  the  brave, 
Are  hidden  and  lost  in  the  depths  of  the  grave. 

The  peasant,  whose  lot  was  to  sow  and  to  reap ; 
The  herdsman,who  climbed  with  his  goats  up  the  steep ; 
The  beggar  who  wandered  in  search  of  his  bread, 
Have  faded  away  like  the  grass  that  we  tread. 

So  the  multitude  goes,  like  the  flower  or  the  weed 
That  withers  away  to  let  others  succeed ; 
So  the  multitude  comes,  even  those  we  behold, 
To  repeat  every  tale  that  has  often  been  told. 


108         WRITINGS   OF  G.  \Y\  CHAPMAN. 

For  we  are  the  same  as  our  fathers  have  been  ; 
We  see  the  same  sights  that  our  fathers  have  seen — 
We  drink  the  same  stream  and  we  view  the  same  sun, 
And  run  the  same  course  that  our  fathers  have  run. 

The  thoughts  we  are  thinking  our  fathers  would  think  ; 
From  the  death  we  are  shrinking  our  fathers  would 

shrink ; 
To  the  life  we  are  clinging  they  also  would  cling; 
But  it  speeds  for  us  all  like  a  bird  on  the  wing. 

They  loved,  but  the  story  wo  cannot  unfold  ; 
They  scorned,  but  the  heart  of  the  haughty  is  cold; 
They  grieved,  but  no  wail  from  their  slumber  will  come; 
They  joyed,  but  the  tongue  of  their  gladness  is  dumb. 

They  died,  aye!  they  died;   we  things  that  are  now. 
That  walk  on  the  turf  that  lies  over  their  brow, 
And  make  in  their  dwellings  a  transient  abode, 
Meet  the  things  that  they  met  on  their  pilgrimage  road. 

Yea!   hope  and  despondency,  pleasure  and  pain. 
We  mingle  together  in  sunshine  and  rain; 
And  the  smile  :ind  the  tear,  the  song  and  the  dirge, 
Still  follow  each  other,  like  surge  upon  surge. 

'Tis  the  wink  of  an  eve,  'tis  the  draught  of  a  breath, 
From  the  blossom  of  health  to  the  paleness  of  death  ; 
From  the  gilded  saloon  to  the  bier  and  the  shroud  — 
O,  why  should  the  spirit  of  mortal  be  proud? 


WRITINGS   OF   G.   W.  CHAPMAN.        109 
ACROSTIC. 

GEORGE    GRANVILLE    CHAPMAN. 

Give  me  the  faith  of  joys  to  come, 
Earth's  fleeting  pleasures  come  and  go, 
Oh,  may  I  earth's  temptations  shun; 
Rejoice  my  Saviour's  love  to  know, 
Grant  me  the  power  of  quickening  grace, 
Even  to  help  me  on  my  race. 

Guide  thou  my  footsteps  by  the  way, 
Rejoice  my  heart  to  learn  thy  power, 
And  help  me  Lord  to  watch  and  pray, 
New  strength  obtain  for  every  hour. 
Virtue  and  love  forbids  my  fear, 
Inspires  my  heart  to  sing  thy  praise, 
Lights  up  my  pathway  bright  and  clear. 
Lights  up  my  evening  dusky  way, 
Ever,  and  on  to  endless  day. 

Christ's  dying  love  is  all  my  theme, 
How  great  a  blessing  to  possess, 
And  greater  than  to  us  may  seem, 
Purer  than  language  to  express. 
Most  glorious  grace,  how  rich,  how  free, 
Angels  with  joy  announce  his  name, 
Now  this  that  Jesus  died  for  me, 
Is  all  I  ask,  is  all  I  claim. 
6 


110  WRITINGS    OF 

ACROSTIC. 

SOPHRONIA    H.    CHAPMAN. 

Sing  now  of  grace  and  mercy  too, 
On  wings  of  faith  and  love  arise  ; 
Peace  marked  the  path  she  did  pursue, 
Heaven  was  her  hope,  her  joy,  her  prize. 
Rejoice  and  sing  to  Jesus'  praise, 
Obey,  and  live  forever  more, 
New  strength  obtain  to  run  the  race, 
Inspired  with  love  and 
Armed  with  power. 

H. 

Christ  did  sustain  her  trembling  heart, 
Her  hope  was  based  on  Jesus'  love, 
And  angels  flew  to  do  their  part, 
Pleased  to  escort  her  safe  above. 
Mansions  before  for  her  prepared, 
Awaiting  her  arrival  home, 
New  heavens  with  radiant  light  appeared, 
And  Jesus  seated  on  his  throne. 


ACROSTIC. 

ALBION    P.    CHAPMAN. 

Alas  !  and  did  my  Saviour  bleed  ? 
Lord  has  thou  bled  and  died  for  me  ? 
Behold,  all  this  and  more  I  need ; 
In  thy  pavilion  ever  be, 
Obedient  to  thy  blessed  name. 
Nor  e'er  depart  from  thee  again. 


GL    W.    CHAPMAN.  HI 

P. 

Chosen  of  God  and  formed  anew, 
Hosannah  to  the  Saviour's  name, 
An  angel,  yes,  and  better  too, 
Preserved  by  grace  and  born  again. 
Material  world  be  all  on  fire, 
And  thou  enveloped  in  the  flame, 
Nature  dissolved,  the  seas  retire, 
And  yet  secure  if  born  again. 


ACROSTIC. 

MILLISENT    NEWTON. 

Millisent  runs  the  prize  to  gain, 
Inspired  with  faith  of  joys  to  come, 
Lives  thus  to  honor  Jeses'  name, 
Like  Paul,  to  win  the  starry  crown. 
In  this  attire  and  heavenly  dress, 
She  sighs  to  reach  her  final  home, 
Eager  to  gain  that  blessed  rest 
Nearer  to  Jesus  on  his 
Throne. 

Now  the  grand  victory  is  attained, 
Each  day  is  greeted  with  delight, 
With  joy  she  flew  to  loose  her  chain, 
T'was  God  sustained  her  in  the  flight. 
O,  may  she  sing  in  loftiest  strain, 
New  honors  to  the  Saviour's  name. 


112  WRITINGS   OF 

ACROSTIC. 

AUGUSTUS    CHAPMAN. 

Awake  my  soul,  awake,  arise, 
Up  to  the  throne  of  grace  repair, 
God  says,  with  pity  in  his  eyes, 
Unhappy  sinner  don't  despair, 
Salvation  comes  to  you  by  grace ; 
'Tis  thus  by  grace  you  must  believe. 
Up  to  the  Saviour  turn  your  face, 
Say  Jesus  thou  my  soul  receive. 

Cherish  those  graces,  faith  and  love  ; 
Hope  will  sustain  the  trembling  heart ; 
Angels  rejoice  with  those  above, 
Prepared  with  mercies  to  impart. 
Most  blessed  Saviour  make  me  feel 
And  own  thy  sovereign  power  and  grace, 
No  more  resist  thy  holy  will, 

But  greet  Thee  with  a  smiling  face. 


ACROSTIC. 

AUGUSTUS    MORSE. 

Arise,  my  soul !  and  onward  march, 
Under  the  Saviour's  banner  move, 
Gird  on  thy  panoply  and  search, 
Until  you  gain  the  Saviour's  love, 
Sing  of  his  grace  and  justice  too, 
Talk  of  his  love  with  feeling  heart, 
Under  his  flag  enlist  anew  ; 
Say,  blessed  Spirit  ne'er  depart. 


G.    W.    CHAPMAN.  113 

Measure  your  strength  by  Jesus'  love, 
On  his  pure  promises  depend ; 
Rest  not  in  dreams  of  joys  above  ; 
Salvation  with  the  promise  blend  ; 
Enter  the  shining  path  of  love, 
That  leads  to  purer  joys  above, 


ACROSTIC. 

WILLIAM    J.    VALENTINE. 

Wisdom  comes  robed  in  innocence, 

In  this  attire  is  ever  safe ; 

Love  comes  with  power  and  self-defence, 

Inspired  with  strength  to  work  with  faith  ; 

Arrayed  in  beauty  all  divine, 

May  you  to  glory  rise  and  shine. 


Vast  is  the  power  of  Jesus'  love, 
A  captain  made  forever  free  ; 
Love  points  to  purer  joys  above, 
Eternal  as  thy  day  may  be. 
Now  tell  thy  ceaseless,  precious  soul 
Take  courage,  as  thy  help's  divine, 
Inspired  with  strength  renew  thy  hold, 
Nearing  to  Jesus  on  his  throne, 
Eternally  with  him  to  shine. 


114  WRITINGS    OF 

ACROSTIC. 

MIRANDA    K.    MORSE. 

Mothers  must  languish,  faint  and  die, 
In  faith  and  hope,  or  sad  despair, 
Rejoice  that  yours  had  faith  to  fly 
As  a  pure  angel  through  the  air. 
New  pleasures  now,  and  objects  new, 
Dressed  in  a  robe  of  Jesus'  love, 
An  angel  fraught  with  mercy  flew, 

Kindly  to  speed  her  flight  above. 

Most  blessed  Saviour,  thou  art  mine, 
O  may  I  thine  forever  be ; 
Redemption  through  thy  merits  shine  ; 
Salvation  now,  and  ever  free, 
Ever  free. 


ACROSTIC. 

GEORGE    MORSE. 

Guide  thou  my  footsteps,  Jesus  do, 
Earth  tempts  me  with  its  fatal  charm  ; 
Oh !  that  my  soul  were  formed  anew, 
Resting  secure  on  Jesus'  arm, 
Guided  by  wisdom  so  divine, 
Earth's  tempting  charms  I  now  resign. 


G.    W.    CHAPMAN.  115 

Most  precious  Saviour  grant  me  grace, 
On  thee  to  cast  my  all  and  live  ; 
Renew  my  strength  to  run  the  race  ; 
Salvation  to  thy  suppliant  give, 
E'en  evermore  on  Thee  to  live. 


ACROSTIC. 

MARY    JANE    GARLAND. 

Measure  your  faith  by  Jesus'  love, 
And  live  to  glorify  his  name  ; 
Rejoice  in  hope  to  rise  above, 
Yea !   rise  to  Heaven  with  him  to  reign. 

Joy  be  the  portion  of  your  cup, 
And  all  be  sanctified  with  love, 
New  strength  to  live  by  faith  and  hope, 
Even  till  safe  in  heaven  above. 

Guided  by  Jesus'  blessed  arm, 
And  shielded  by  his  power  divine, 
Richer  than  gold  with  all  its  charm, 
Love  makes  her  like  an  angel  shine. 
A  world  in  vision  meets  her  eye, 
New  heaven  with  all  its  glories  there, 
Dearer  than  life,  she  feign  would  fly 
To  meet  her  Saviour  in  the  air. 


116  WRITINGS    OF 

ACROSTIC. 

EBENEZER    AND    HEPHZIBAH    EAMES. 

Each  moment  helps  us  mortals  on, 
Beloved  brother,  to  the  grave, 
Earth  as  a  monarch  claims  its  own, 
Nor  hath  it  will,  or  power  to  save. 
Eternal  spirit  give  by  grace 
Zion's  reward,  for  me  to  hold, 
Even  to  speed  me  on  my  race, 
Rather  than  gems  of  precious  gold. 

Hail !  blessed  Jesus  thou  my  Lord, 
Eternal  spirit  all  divine, 
Prepare  me  Lord  to  love  thy  word, 
Heaven  be  my  rest  with  thee  to  shine. 
Zion  is  my  joy  and  confidence, 
Inspired  with  love,  I  shout  and  sing, 
Be  thou  my  righteousness,  O,  Lord, 
And  I  with  joy  my  tribute  bring, 
Hozannah  to  my  sovereign  King. 

Eternal  spirit,  make  me  feel 
And  own  thy  sovereign  power  and  grace. 
Melt  thou  my  heart,  affix  thy  seal, 
Even  to  cheer  me  on  my  race, 
Salvation  by  thy  power  and  grace. 


G;    W.    CHAPMAN.  117 

ACROSTIC. 

REV.    EDMUND    BURT. 

Edmund  is  gone  to  glory  too, 
Death  met  him  with  resistless  power  ; 
Most  blessed  grace  that  foiled  the  foe, 
Upward  he  soared  to  heaven's  fair  bower, 
No  more  to  tire  with  earthly  care, 
Decked  with  a  crown  of  glory  there. 

Brio-ht  as  the  shining  orbs  of  light, 
Unrivalled  beauty  flushed  his  face, 
Resting  with  angels  robed  in  white, 
Triumphant  through  redeeming  grace. 


ACROSTIC. 

LYDIA    W.    BURT. 

Lyclia  is  left  to  weep,  and  mourn, 
Yea,  mourn,  and  yet  rejoice  in  hope, 
Dressed  in  her  sackcloth  thus  alone, 
Inspired  with  praise  from  every  note  ; 
A  precious  hope  doth  yet  survive, 

With  Faith,  its  sister,  side  by  side. 

Breathing  the  precious  air  of  love, 
Under  the  ray  of  heavenly  light, 
Resting  assured  to  join  above, 
Those  millions  clad  in  robes  of  white. 


H#  WRITINGS    OF 


ACROSTIC. 

EDMUND    AND    HITTIE    CHAPMAN. 

Edmund  as  a  poet  shines, 
Down  to  the  ocean's  depth  he  sounds, 
Measuring  the  distance  all  by  ryhme. 
Up  to  the  ethereal  blue  he  bounds, 
Near  to  the  spacious  milky  way, 
Directly  on  to  endless  day. 

Hittie  is  a  matron  fraught  with  love, 
Inspired  with  strength  to  labor  on, 
'Tis  hers  to  dream  of  joys  above, 
To  taste  their  sweetness  passing  on 
In  this  attire,  joined  hand  in  hand, 
Eager  to  reach  the  promised  land. 

Cheer  up  dear  brother,  sister  you, 
Hope  will  sustain  you  by  the  way, 
And  thus  the  narrow  path  pursue, 
Peace  smooths  your  passage  day  by  day. 
Measure  your  strength  by  Jesus'  love, 
And  thus  adore  the  Saviour's  name, 
Now  join  the  sacred  choir  above, 
In  loftiest  song  and  sweetest  strain. 


G.    W.    CHAPMAN.  119 

ACROSTIC.      . 

SUSAN    ISABELLE    VALENTINE. 

Susan  aspires  to  know  the  Lord, 
Under  his  banner  rests  secure, 
She  loves  to  learn,  and  teach  his  word, 
Adores  his  name,  and  owns  his  power ; 
Nature  may  fail,  but  grace  is  sure. 

Inspired  with  love  she's  learned  his  name, 
Salvation  by  his  cross  and  blood ; 
A  sinner  she,  but  born  again, 
Bearing  her  cross  to  work  for  God. 
Earth's  pleasures  fail  when  grace  begins, 
Love  rules  the  current  of  the  heart  ; 
Let  love  have  rule,  the  viper  sin 
Either  will  die,  or  soon  depart. 

Virtue  deserves  a  rich  reward, 
And  yet  its  worth  is  seldom  known  ; 
Love  takes  its  rise,  and  comes  from  God, 
Eternal  as  his  shining  throne, 
New  mercies  ever  flowing  down. 
Thrice  happy  you,  forever  blest 
In  this  attire,  best  robe  and  crown, 
Nearer  to  heaven's 
Eternal  rest. 


120  WRITINGS    OF 

ACROSTIC. 

TIMOTHY    AND    SARAH    J.    CHAPMAN. 

Treasures  of  grace  and  mercy  too, 
In  Jesus  will  forever  shine, 
More  precious  than  the  early  dew, 
Or  rain  upon  the  tender  vine. 
Thrice  happy  clearest  brother  you, 
Happy,  because  by  grace  divine, 
Your  happiness  is  safe  and  true, 
If  you  your  all  to  Christ  resign. 

Salvation  comes  direct  from  God, 

And  through  the  blessed  Saviour's  name, 

Redemption  through  his  precious  blood, 

A  lamb  of  God  for  sinners  slain. 

Hope  bounds  to  own  his  precious  name, 

Joy  echoes  with  a  loud  Amen. 

Call  brother,  sister,  tell  the  story, 
How  the  Saviour  brought  you  in, 
And  how.  the  Lord  of  life  and  glory, 
Pleased  to  vanquish  all  your  sin. 
May  you  not  rejoice  together, 
As  you  journey  on  your  way, 
Now  dear  brother,  now  as  ever, 

Tune  your  hearts  to  praise  and  pray. 


G.    W.    CHAPMAN.  121 

GOLDEN  WEDDING 

OF    ME.   AND    MRS.    AMOS   JOHNSON. 

BY  MRS.  SARAH  B.   CROOKS. 

Just  fifty  years  have  rolled  away 
Since  that  blest  hour — your  bridal  day  ; 
From  youth  to  age,  through  joy  and  ill, 
That  love  has  shone — shines  brightly  still. 

And  now  to  Him  who's  bless'd  your  days, 
We  lift  our  hearts  in  grateful  praise, 
For  all  the  joy  that's  filled  your  cup, 
For  even  sorrow's  bitter  drop. 

Some  loved  buds  from  your  hearts  were  torn, 
Too  fair  in  earthly  clime  to  bloom ; 
Yours  still  they  are — "  but  gone  before," 
They'll  greet  you  on  the  further  shore. 

We  joy  with  you  that  two  remain, 
Their  parent's  blessing  still  to  claim ; 
And  children's  children  come  to-day, 
The  tribute  of  their  love  to  pay. 

Accept  our  love  and  wishes  true, 
That  long  this  tie  may  bind  you  two  ; 
That  gently  through  life's  closing  day, 
You  twain  may  cheer  each  other's  way ; 

And  when  is  loos'd  the  "  silver  cord," 
That  you  on  earth,  "  one  in  the  Lord," 
May  reach  at  last  that  blissful  shore, 
Joined  by  the  tie  which  breaks  no  more. 
7 


122  WRITINGS    OF 

ACROSTIC. 

JESSIE   LOUISA   THURSTON. 

Jesus,  my  Lord,  has  died  for  me, 

Eternal  love  inspires  my  song ; 

Salvation  now  is  safe  and  free, 

Safe  through  the  tempest  and  the  storm ; 

I'll  sing  in  honor  of  his  name, 

Even  in  sounds  of  sweetest  strain. 

Love  his  sweet  name  with  all  your  heart, 
On  his  rich  promises  rely, 
Upward  aspire  to  make  your  mark, 
In  this  attire  your  foe  defy ; 
Say,  blessed  Jesus  thou  art  mine, 
And  I  my  all  to  thee  resign. 

Take  hold  by  faith  of  Jesus'  hand, 
He  will  sustain  thy  trembling  heart,  , 
Under  his  banner  take  thy  stand, 
Ready  to  labor  or  depart ; 
Say,  dying  sinner,  come  and  see, 
'Tis  thus  we're  saved  by  grace  divine ; 
Oh  yes,  'twas  Jesus  died  for  me. 
Now  I  may  hope  with  him  to  shine. 


G.    W.    CHAPMAN.  123 

ACROSTIC. 

ABBIE    EOWE. 

Abbie,  the  precious  jewel's  gone  ; 
Beauty  has  lied  to  joys  above  ; 
Behold  her  shining  near  the  throne, 
In  the  best  robe,  her  mantle,  love  ; 
Even  a  seraph,  fair  and  bright, 
Rejoicing  in  pure  heavenly  light. 

Rejoice,  her  friends,  in  Jesus'  love  ; 
Obey  the  Saviour's  precious  call ; 
Wisdom  invites  to  joys  above, 
Even  to  pleasures  rich  withal. 


ACROSTIC. 

ZILPAH    STILES. 

Zilpah,  sweet  minstrel,  where's  she  gone 

Is  near  with  music  in  her  song. 

Listen,  those  strains  are  pure  and  sweet, 

Peace  claims  admittance  to  her  seat. 

Angels  are  listening  from  above, 

Hope  bounds  with  joy  to  hear  with  love. 

Sing  on,  sweet  minstrel,  loud  and  strong, 
Till  grace  and  glory  crown  your  song ; 
Inspired  with  these  you'll  shout  and  sing 
Loud  songs  of  praise  to  Christ  your  king, 
Even  in  tune  with  those  above, 
Sweet  notes  of  praise  to  Jesus'  love. 


124 


WRITINGS    OF 
ACROSTIC. 

SAKAH  ADELINE  CHAPMAN. 

Salvation  sure  in  Christ  alone, 
Accompanied  with  faith  and  love ; 
Riches  cannot  for  sin  atone, 
And  will  not  lead  to  joys  above. 
Happy,  dear  Sarah,  you  must  be, 
Your  love  doth  testify  for  thee. 

Addie's  purest  principle  is  love, 

Death  can't  dissolve  this  shining  flame  ; 

Eternal  as  the  powers  above, 

Love  has  a  name  above  every  name. 

In  any  circumstance  or  place, 

No  power  can  quench  this  vital  flame, 

Ever  in  harmony  with  grace  ; 

I  will  sing,  and,  like 

A  sovereign,  reign. 

Child  thou  of  immortality, 
How  rich  thy  record  made  above  ; 
An  angel  more  a  prisoner  free, 
Prepared  by  grace  and  wrought  in  love. 
Mighty  Redeemer,  what  am  I ! 
And  can  I,  may  I  own  thy  name  ? 
Nor  ever  let  me  from  thee  fly, 
But  joy  thy  favor  to  retain. 


G.    W.    CHAPMAN.  125 

ACROSTIC. 

ABBIE    FRANCES    HASTINGS. 

Abbie  has  fled  to  joys  above, 
Beauty  is  magnified  with  grace, 
Basking  in  Jesus'  perfect  love ; 
In  the  blest  robe  his  righteousness, 
Even  his  righteousness  divine, 
In  that  blest  robe  will  ever  shine. 

Fear  not,  she's  safe  in  Jesus'  name, 
Redemption's  by  his  precious  blood  ; 
Angels  can  no  such  glory  claim, 
Now  safe  in  Christ,  an  heir  of  God. 
Christ  is  her  rock,  she's  safe  in  him, 
Even  an  angel  ever  free  ; 
Say,  monster  Death,  where  is  thy  sting  ? 
Grave,  where  thy  boasted  victory  ? 

Hush,  weeping  parent,  wipe  your  eyes, 
Abbie  has  fled  to  joys  above  ; 
She  flew  with  angels  to  the  skies, 
To  meet  her  Saviour  in  his  love. 
I  see  her  crowned  with  glory  there, 
Nature  was  changed  to  love  divine  ; 
God  grant  that  you  may  with  her  share, 
Secure  in  heaven  with  her  to  shine. 


126  WRITINGS    OF 

ACROSTIC. 

HARVEY    AND    SUSAN   PHILBROOK. 

Hearken,  dear  brother,  hear  ray  story, 

Ancl  remember  what  I  tell ; 

Read  how  the  Lord  of  life  and  glory 

Vanquish'd  sin  and  conquered  hell. 

Ever  anon  your  life  be  love, 

Your  end  be  peace,  and  joy  above. 

Susan  aspires  to  know  the  Lord, 
Under  his  banner  rests  secure ; 
She  loves  to  read  and  learn  his  word, 
Adore  his  name  and  own  his  power, 
Xew  strength  derives  for  every  hour. 

Perfection's  found  in  Christ  alone, 
He  is  the  Lord  our  righteousness  ; 
In  him  is  wisdom  to  atone. 
Lord,  save  me  by  thy  sovereign  grace,- 
Blessed  Redeemer,  set  me  free  ; 
Redemption's  by  thy  precious  name, 
Oh  may  I  thy  true  subject  be, 
Or  rise  above  with  thee  .to  reign ; 
Kind  Saviour,  seal  me  with  thy  name. 


G.    W.    CHAPMAN.  127 

ACROSTIC. 

ELLA   A.   KENDALL. 

Ella's  a  pretty  lady-love, 
Love  helps  to  cheer  and  warm  the  heart ; 
Light  shines  to  guide  her  safe  above, 
And  home  in  heaven  no  more  to  part. 

And  yet  must  linger  here  awhile. 

Kind-hearted,  brilliant,  full  of  life, 
Ever  a  cheerful,  happy  child, 
Now  soon  to  be  a  darling  wife. 
Dear  Ella,  what  a  pleasant  life, 
A  husband's  yours,  if  you're  a  wife  ; 
Love  helped  you  on  to  win  the  race, 
Live  now  by  faith,  be  saved  by  grace. 


ACROSTIC. 

HELENA   BOWKER. 

Helena  dear,  so  that's  your  name, 
Ever  and  on  so  may  it  be  ; 
Love  found  me  absent  when  she  came, 
Even  with  that  sweet  kiss  from  thee. 
No  fiction,  this  comes  self-approved, 
A  precious  gem  of  perfect  love. 

Beauty  is  near  allied  to  love, 
Only  by  love  can  beauty  shine ; 
Wisdom,  true  wisdom's  from  above, 
Kind-hearted,  peaceful,  superfine, 
Exalte'd,  beautiful,  and  fair, 
Richer  than  costly  diamonds  are. 


128  WRITINGS    OF 

ACROSTIC. 

MAETHA   BEACH   ADAMS. 

Martha  is  doomed  to  suffer  pain, 
And  still  her  faith  is  strong  in  God  ; 
Reviews  with  pleasure  Jesus'  name, 
Trusts  in  his  righteousness  and  blood. 
Her  hope  of  heaven  is  fair  and  bright, 
Aye,  more,  it  shines  with  heavenly  light. 

But  still  she  suffers  in  the  flesh, 
Even  a  pilgrim  here  below, 
An  angel's  heart  within  her  breast, 
Christ's  dying  love  to  bear 
Her  through. 

A  blessed  sweetness  flushed  her  face, 
Death  threatens  with  his  fatal  dart ; 
An  angel  flew,  its  message  grace, 
Met  death,  and  claimed  her  better  part. 
Sweet  as  a  seraph  there  she'll  sing, 

Thou  monster,  Death,  where  is  thy  sting  ? 

And  as  an  angel  ever  free, 

Grave,  where's  thy  boasted  victory  ? 


G.    W.    CHAPMAN.  129 

ACROSTIC. 

MARY    O.    CHAPMAN. 

Mary  has  fainted,  languished,  died, 
And  as  an  angel  shines  above  ; 
Rejoicing  by  her  Saviour's  side, 
Yea,  basking  in  his  pardoning  love. 

O. 

Cherished  by  grace  and  love  divine, 
Her  beauty  is  her  heavenly  dress, 
And  in  it  she  will  ever  shine. 
Peace  is  her  mantle  decked  with  grace, 
Music  is  chanted  all  around, 
And  joy  is  magnified  with  love  ; 
New  heavens,  with  golden  streets  abound, 
Angels  with  her  in  concert  move. 


ACROSTIC. 

MAEY    CHAPMAN. 

Mary,  would  you  a  princess  be, 
And  sit  as  queen  upon  your  throne, 
Rejoice  your  subjects  all  to  see, 
Yea,  see  them  thy  proud  sceptre  own  ? 

Choose  Jesus  rather  for  your  friend, 
He  will  his  promises  make  good, 
And  from  the  snares  of  hell  defend. 
Peace  be  your  mantle,  bought  with  blood. 
Minutes  and  hours  and  days  may  fly, 
And  you  be  hurried  swiftly  on  ; 
No  fear,  dear  Mary,  though  you  die, 
You'll  join  with  angels  in  your  song. 


130  WRITINGS    OF 

ACROSTIC. 

CAPT.  JOHN  S.  AND  ARABELLA  CHAPMAN. 

Clap,  clap  your  hands ;  oh,  shout  and  sing, 
A  glorious  victory  is  won  ! 
Peace  comes  adorned  with  golden  wings, 
'Tis  more  than  gold  to  sable  sons. 

John  is  a  hero,  man  of  fame, 
Outdone  by  few,  a  friend  to  all ; 
He's  proud  to  give  and  own  his  name, 
Nor  will  he  flinch  to  save  a  fall. 

Stout  hearted,  bold,  and  kind  to  all. 

Arabella,  happy,  cheerful,  wise, 
Reaching  to  make  her  mark  above  ; 
And  hopes  that  she  shall  thither  rise 
Bright  as  a  seraph  fraught  with  love. 
Earth  is  to  her  a  tiresome  place, 
Love  holds  her  waiting  for  a  pass, 
Light  shines  to  help  her  on  with  grace, 
And  light  her  up  to  heavenly  paths. 

Chivalry  met  him  by  the  way, 
Hate  full  of  malice  struck  him  down ; 
A  whisper,  angels  seemed  to  say, 
Press  on  to  victory,  take  thy  crown, 
Mingle  your  plea  with  faith  in  prayer, 
And  shout,  deliverance  is  come. 
Now  in  those  temporary  honors  share, 
Till  Jesus  deck  thee  with  a  crown. 


G.    W.    CHAPMAN.  131 

ACROSTIC. 

GE0KGIAN   CHAPMAN*. 

Georgie,  their  daughter,  is  silver  bright, 
Eager  to  find  a  happy  spot ; 
Obedient,  cheerful,  aiming  right, 
Really  she's  cunning,  right  or  not. 
Great  are  her  talents,  every  one 
Inspired  with  strength  to  will  and  do, 
And  always  stops  when  she  is  done, 
Nor  ever  till  she's  fairly  through. 

Choose,  Georgie  dear,  the  better  part, 
Hope  on,  and  pray  for  grace  divine  ; 
Accept  the  call,  give  Christ  your  heart, 
Please  all  you  have  to  him  resign. 
My  soul  shall  magnify  his  grace, 
Adore  his  name  and  love  his  word, 
New  strength  obtain  to  run  the  race 
And  win  the  favor  of  my  Lord. 


132        WRITINGS    OF   G.   W.   CHAPMAN. 


ACROSTIC. 

LUCY  ELLEN  PRATT. 

Love  is  a  gem  more  pure  than  gold, 
Uprooting  errors  of  the  heart ; 
Christ  came  this  mystery  to  unfold, 
Yea,  more  this  treasure  to  impart. 

Ellen,  this  treasure  you've  obtained, 
Love  to  inspire  and  warm  your  heart ; 
Love  on,  and  sing  to  Jesus'  name, 
Even  with  him 
No  more  to  part. 

Peace  be  your  mantle  while  you  stay, 
Resting  secure  in  Jesus'  love  ; 
And  be  you  faithful,  watch  and  pray, 
Till  your  best 
Treasure's  safe  above. 


WRITINGS  OF  G.  W.  CHAPMAN.      133 


JUBILANT  SONG. 

On  a  bright  shining  morn, 

At  its  sweet  rosy  dawn, 
As  the  songsters  prepared  to  retreat, 

My  ear  caught  a  sound, 

As  the  echo  went  round, 
It  was  music  delightsome  and  sweet. 

'  Rosy  Bower '  was  sung, 

And  the  harmony  rung, 
And  the  hum-bird  on  the  wing  all  alive  ; 

The  industrious  bee 

From  the  flower  on  the  tree 
Hummed  away  with  their  sweets  to  the  hive, 

I  was  fraught  with  delight, 

And  was  up  for  a  flight, 
But  alas !  I  was  blind,  could  not  see ; 

I  thought  of  sweet  home 

With  my  Saviour  enthroned 
'  Midst  the  fruits  of  his  life-giving  tree. 

So  this  is  my  stand 

'Till  my  life  He  demands, 
And  then  by  His  grace  I  shall  fly, 

With  the  sweets  of  His  love 

To  the  mansions  above 
He  prepared  for  His  children  on  high. 


WRITINGS    OF 

And  so  here  we  are  found 

On  Immanuel's  ground, 
In  the  beauty  of  holiness  free; 

'Mid  a  bright  shining  throng 

With  perfection  of  song, 
Witli  Jesus  forever  to  be. 

In  a  world  without  end, 

Where  our  glory  depends, 
And  the  deaf  and  the  blind  hear  and  see; 

Where  pure  love  doth  exist 

With  perfection  of  bliss, 
And  the  captives  rejoice  to  be  free. 


ACROSTIC. 

SARAH  S.  D.  HOW. 

Sarah,  our  sister,  loves  her  Lord, 
And  lives  by  faith  in  Him  alone ; 
Reviews  with  joy  His  precious  word, 
And  trusts  His  promise  to  atone. 
Here  Sarah  comes, 

Sustained  by  grace, 

Dressed  in 

Her  Saviour's  righteousness ; 
O  child  of  promise,  fruit  of  love, 
Wisdom  will  guide  thee  safe  above. 


G.    W.    CHAPMAN.  135 

ACROSTIC. 

MARY  ELIZABETH  TOLFORD. 

May,  my  darling,  blessed  name, 
Among  a  thousand  best  of  all, 
Rejoice  that  Christ  your  Saviour  came, 
Yea,  came  to  save  you  from  the  tall. 

Eternal  beauty  decks  His  crown, 
Light  is  His  mantle  mixed  with  love; 
In  Him,  may  your  sweet  name  be  found 
Zealous  to  reach  those  joys  above. 
Angels  will  meet  my  darling  there, 
Beauty  doth  in  perfection  shine, 
Eternal  music  fills  the  air 
To  chant  their  song  at  Jesus'  shrine; 
Her  happiness  is  all  divine. 

Tree,  tree  of  life  : 

O  precious  fruit ! 

Love  full  of  immortality. 

Faith  is  the  tree,  and  Christ  the  root. 

Oh  praise  Him,  that  he  died  for  thee! 

Rest  not  in  this,  be  faithful,  dear, 

Do  well  'till  Jesus  doth  appear. 


36  WRITINGS    OF 

ACROSTIC. 

RALPH  H.  REYNOLDS. 

Rest,  little  Ralph,  with  peace  and  love, 
As  they  have  power  to  cheer  the  heart; 
Love  rules  with  grace  the  power  above, 
Peace  flies  with 
Hope  to  act  its  part. 

H.  claims  its  place  to  fill  the  chart. 

Rejoice  and  sing  to  Jesus'  love  ; 

Earth  is  alone  a  tiresome  place ; 

Your  treasure  should  be  safe  above ; 

Now  safe  with  Christ,  by  grace  through  faith. 

O  precious  fruit!  From  tree  of  life 

Love  fruit  of  faith  and  end  of  strife; 

Dressed  in  best  robe,  Christ's  righteousness, 

Stamped  with  His  love,  sealed  with  His  kiss. 


G.    W.    CHAPMAN.  137 

ACROSTIC. 

SUSAN  B.  BROOKS. 

Susan  comes  clad  in  the  best  robe, 
Upward  she  tends  by  faith  and  prayer ; 
Salvation  is  her  safe  abode 
And  Jesus'  love  sustains  her  there. 
Nature  is  changed  to  love  divine, 

Beauty  doth  in  perfection  shine. 

Beauty  with  love  is  near  allied ; 
Rejoice  they  both  are  found  in  thee, 
O  may  they  both  with  thee  abide, 
Or  crown  thy  life  with  victory. 
Keep  close  to  Jesus,  hold  him  fast ; 
Saved  thus  by  grace  through  faith  at  last. 


WRITINGS    OF 


CHRISTMAS  HYMN.     1871  * 

Hail,  blessed  Christmas,  precious  word ! 

The  brightest  feature  in  my  date, 
The  birthday  of  my  blessed  Lord, 

The  glory  of  His  advent  great. 

I  claim  it,  too,  as  my  birthday, 
Alas  !  it  h  found  me  in  the  dark ; 

I  sought  in  vain  to  find  my  way, 
'Till  Jesus'  love  inspired  my  heart. 

I'd  speak  with  reverence  Jesus'  name, 
Whose  grace  accompanied  His  birth  ; 

May  all  His  ransomed  shout  amen, 
And  chant  His  glory  round  the  earth. 

Yea,  let  all  unite  and  sing, 
Salvation  to  our  new-born  King, 
Who  ransomed  fallen,  dying  man, 
He's  King,  the  babe  of  Bethlehem. 

Now  seated  on  His  Father's  throne, 

For  dying  sinners  to  atone, 

Thus  may  we  all  our  tribute  gring 

To  Christ,  our  sovereign  King  of  Kings. 

*  December  25,  1871,  I  was  91  years  old. 


G.    W.    CHAPMAN.  189 


ACROSTIC. 


CARRIE  L.  BROOKS. 


Carrie,  oh  Carrie, 
And  what  shall  I  say  ? 
Rejoice  in  your  Saviour; 
Read,  sing,  watch,  and  pray. 
In  Him  you  are  safe ; 
Even  more, — you  are  free. 

Take  His  word  as  a  mirror 

His  beauty  to  see. 


Bless  Him  now  in  your  son"-, 
Rejoice  in  His  love, 
Oh  praise  Him,  now  gone 
On  His  mission  above ; 
Keep  true  to  your  pledge, 
Say,  Jesus  I  love.